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MAKING A LIFE 



If there be good in what I wrought, 
Thy hand compelled it, Master, Thine ; 
Where I have failed to meet Thy thought 
I know, through Thee, the blame is mine. 
One instant' 's toil to Thee denied 
Stands all Eternity s offence, 
Of that I did with Thee to guide 
To Thee, through l^hee, be excellence. 
The depth and dream of my desire, 
The bitter paths wherein I stray, 
Thou knowest who has made the fire, 
Thou knowest who has made the clay. 
One stone the more swings to her place 
In that dread Temple of Thy worth — 
// is enough that through Thy grace 
I saw naught common on Thy earth. 

— Rudyard Kipling. 





£^ 



MAKING A LIFE 



BY 



/ 



Rev. CORTLAND MYERS, D.D. 

Minister at the Baptist Temple, Brooklyn, N. Y. 
Author of "Why Men Do Not Go to Church," etc., etc. 



NEW YORK 
THE BAKER AND TAYLOR COMPANY 

5 and 7 East Sixteenth Street 



] 



1555.1 



Library of Coricjre«s 

Two Copies Received ! 
JUL 8 1900 

Copyright entry 

a. iyLo 

SECOND COPY. 

Delivered to 

ORDER DIVISION, 

JUL 6 1900 



^ 
■^ 



Copyright, 1900, 

BY 

THE BAKER AND TAYLOR COMPANY 

A a & fit a 

O -rfc o o o 



ROBERT DRUMMOND, PRINTER, NEW YORK. 



Uo ms Mife 



TABLE OF CONTENTS 



PAGE 

Life's Ideal ii 



II 

Life's Purpose 41 

III 

Life's Progress 62 

IV 
Life's Mystery 92 

V 

Life's Influence 118 

VI 

Life's Waste 144 

VII 

Life's Law 174 



TABLE OF CONTENTS 



VIII 

PAGE 

Life's Pain 200 



IX 
Life's Environment 222 

X 

Life's Memory 247 

XI 
Life's Conscience 276 

XII 
Life's Destiny 300 



// is not what a man does which exalts him, but what he 
would do.— Browning. 

Let any one set his heart to do what is right, and ere long 
his brow is stamped with all that goes to make up heroic 
expression. — Charles Kingsley. 

No man can live half a life when he has genuinely learned 
that it is a half life. The other half the higher half must 
haunt him. — Phillips Brooks. 

Yes, here in this poor, miserable, hampered, despicable 
Actual, wherein thou even now standest, here or nowhere is 
thy Ideal. Work it out, therefrom, and, working, believe, 
live, be free. Fool! the Ideal is in thyself ; the impediment 
too, is in thyself ; thy Condition is but the stuff thou art to 
shape that same Ideal out of What matters whether such 
stuff be of this sort, or that, so the form thou give it be heroic 
— be poetic P Oh, thou that pinest in the imprisonment of 
the Actual, and criest bitterly to the gods for a kingdom 
wherein to rule and create, know this of a truth : the thing 
thou seekest is already with thee, here or nowhere, couldst 
thou only see ! — Thomas Carlyle, in ' * Sartor Resartus. ' ' 

No human being and no society composed of human 
beings ever did, or ever will, come to much unless their con- 
duct was guided and governed by the love of some ethical 
ideal. — Huxley. 



MAKING A LIFE 

I 

LIFE'S IDEAL 

It was written by the pen of inspiration con- 
cerning one of the world's heroes that " he had an 
excellent spirit in him." The printer blundered 
with his type and made the record of his life to read 
that " Daniel had an excellent ' spine ' in him." 
This was not a correct translation, but, unquestion- 
ably, a statement of fact — a fact of supreme im- 
portance. His biography reveals his unbending 
devotion to the highest ideal. When this famous 
young man went away from home to college in a 
distant land, he fixed his goal and, in face of tem- 
porary defeat and bitterest opposition, " he pur- 
posed in his heart " to be true to that ideal even 
at the cost of life itself. Duty was the emphatic 
word in his vocabulary, and he would not defile its 

ii 



LIFE'S IDEAL 

purity with heathen custom or his own cowardice. 
His ideal was his salvation. Its sanctity was the 
temple in which he worshipped. It occupied the 
throne of his life, and he was ever its obedient sub- 
ject. He hearkened to its voice when desire and 
flesh cried out against him. It was a circuitous 
pathway to this ideal of life, and cut through cloud- 
land, and forest, and darkness, but the light never 
faded away, and the highest place in the realm was 
for the weary traveller's reward. A noble purpose 
is life's guarding, guiding angel. It alone can take 
a man through a lion's den and lock their crimson 
jaws. In one hand it holds safety, and in the other 
success. Daniel was king at last because his ideal 
was king at first. A high ideal is the lever under 
human life, and means the elevation of character. 
He who is satisfied with his first effort, or his first 
step, or his first attainment, never reaches emi- 
nence. A righteous dissatisfaction is essential to 
future achievement. A deeper longing precedes 
every bolder attempt. Look higher if you would 
live higher. An ideal is not something which is al- 
ways hanging in the distant horizon like a rainbow 
toward which the child runs with open hand to 
grasp it only to find it always the same distance 

12 



LIFE'S IDEAL 

away. The hilltop was no nearer to it than the 
valley, and the climb was of no avail. It is the great- 
est reality of life, and every hilltop brings us nearer 
to its possession. One bright summer morning 
the old iron horse was slowly but courageously 
pushing his way up through the wild mountains of 
the Pacific coast. Suddenly the travellers shouted in 
a chorus of delight: "There's Shasta! There's 
Shasta! " and the king of mountains on the western 
continent raised his royal head above the hills and 
the lower peaks and above the scattered, fleecy 
clouds and swung his sparkling sceptre over the 
kingdoms at his feet. The untrained eye looked 
through that clear air and carried the message to 
the waiting mind that the famous mountain was 
distant about ten miles, but the skilled vision of 
the conductor startled the company by declaring 
that it was more than one hundred and fifty miles 
away. He said: " You will be permitted to behold 
its glory all the day. Have patience and a nearer 
view will be given you." It was at the setting of 
the sun when the train halted at the base of that 
kingliest of mountains, and we beheld it in all its 
glory. It is a winding, climbing, dangerous jour- 
ney, but the day is filled with inspiration from the 

13 



LIFE'S IDEAL 

sight of the ideal, and at the sunset hour there will 
be perfect vision, and rest, and satisfaction, and re- 
ward. 

Ideals are not creations of the brain or the de- 
sire; they are real. They are not things manu- 
factured by us; they are discovered. The great 
musicians did not make their music; they found it. 
The great artists did not make their pictures; they 
revealed them. Edison did not make electricity; he 
discovered its methods. Itwasnotmadeof hisideals; 
it, rather, made his ideals. Music is, art is, beauty is, 
righteousness is, and the one man has come nearer 
to them than the other, and he talks about them 
to his fellow men, and, oftentimes, in an unknown 
tongue. The great truths and ideals of life exist 
and are the great realities of life, before some man 
has entered into a closer fellowship with them than 
other men. Watt, and Faraday, and Newton saw 
but dimly at first, but their vision proved to be a 
reality. To talk about the ideal is not to dream. It 
depends upon the power and persistency of vision. 
The imagination is the world's greatest explorer. 
It has been the forerunner of every Columbus. 
Shakespeare, and Wordsworth, and Tennyson, and 
Isaiah, and all their company of nobility simply 

14 



LIFE'S IDEAL 

drew aside the veil from realities. They attempted 
to make us see what they saw. The small man is 
the one who only sees the present and considers 
policy and expediency, but the great man is he 
who sees the fundamental and eternal principles 
and knows by sight and acquaintance, honesty, and 
truth, and righteousness, and all their blood-rela- 
tives. This marks the difference between men and 
machines; between the artist and the automaton; 
between drudgery and inspiration. All men are 
stamped with the impress of their ideals. All 
their efforts are controlled by its power. In 
every department of life it is the supreme 
reality; oftentimes unrecognized or considered 
the possession of a dreamer, but never dropping 
its sceptre. The ideal of the business man is the 
mightiest factor in his life; not always sharply 
defined, but always doing its work. The home is 
beautified, not so much by drapery or furniture, as 
by the artistic hand of the ideal. This is the only 
salvation for most men from a life of drudgery, and 
disappointment, and despair. Ideals are heavenly 
messengers; they are the wings of the lark to save 
the songster from the perils of the lowlands. As- 
piration places bright garments upon poverty, and 

15 



LIFE'S IDEAL 

reveals the blessing in the arms of toil. It snatches 
manhood out of the snare and coils of discourage- 
ment and hardship. It makes the music which the 
unending buzz and rattle of machinery cannot si- 
lence. It clears the atmosphere of dust and disease 
and lets in the light and purity of the upper world. 
The maiden looks through the struggles of her 
daily task and hearkens for the footstep of a lover 
and the sound of wedding bells, and watches for 
the daybreak of hope's morning. The young man 
faces the burdens of life and raises them to his 
shoulder and dreams of his own home and his own 
companion and better days. 

Ideals are the stars which God places in the sky 
of young manhood and womanhood, like the other 
stars above the pathway of traveller and mariner. 
The wise men who follow this light always reach 
a Bethlehem. History furnishes unnumbered il- 
lustrations of the world's greatest and best, being 
led on to satisfaction and victory by this holy vision. 
The masters in every part of the world, and in every 
moment of time, have first been mastered by a 
noble ideal. They stemmed the current, and 
bridged the stream, and divided the waters while 
other men were mere scraps of manhood on the 

i6 



LIFE'S IDEAL 

surface of the stream and moving with the current. 
This is the inevitable result of a vulgar content- 
ment. The upward impulse is the only salvation. 
The soul's cry for something nobler and better is 
the food for its growth and the foretelling of its 
future and ultimate perfection. 

A victorious ideal is not an occasional impulse, 
or a momentary elevation, but a steady aim, and 
a constant star, and a fixed compass. These 
shadowy and fleeting thoughts and purposes are 
like drops of dew on the grass-blade of the sum- 
mer morning. They sparkle with diamond-like 
brilliancy, and even reflect a world, but they are 
evanescent. One breath of an opposing wind scat- 
ters them, and all is lost. The valuable manhood 
is that which transmutes and permanently trans- 
forms these ideals into soul-life, and eternal char- 
acter, and divinest man. He who has a worthy 
ambition and courageously and wisely seeks it is 
king. 

This great power in life is lost by lack of defintte- 
ness or the presence of ignoble ambition, or 
the result of pride and vanity, or the influence of 
the temporal and material, or impatience, or the 
want of a deathless determination. A single stroke 

17 



LIFE'S IDEAL 

of the hammer, without the image in mind, might 
shatter the statue. Mere pounding is ruinous. Aim 
and object are essential. Definite purpose and 
clearly bounded ideals must precede the work of 
the chisel. 

One of the most earnest of modern Gaelic poets, 
Dugald Buchanan, was first led to think of serious 
subjects by a cleverly turned phrase, uttered half 
in jest. " What is your profession? " a pious High- 
lander inquired of him. " As to that," replied 
Buchanan, " I have none in particular. My mind 
is very much like a sheet of white paper." " Then 
take care that the devil does not write his name 
upon it," said the other. The remark was the one 
touch needed to turn the poet to more serious 
thoughts and a more earnest way of life. 

What is the ideal of your life? Art thou a wor- 
shipper at the shrine of gold, or fame, or pleasure, 
or the purely temporal elements of life? If thou 
art, the muck-rake is in thy hand, and thou art in 
the mud of the world, and blind to the angel above 
thy head with a bright crown in his hand. With- 
out a worthy ideal thou canst never bend thy neck 
in the upward gaze, and reward is lost forever. Life 

is a failure; thou hast missed the mark. Thou art 

18 



LIFE'S IDEAL 

a slave to the passing and the perishing. The best 
that is in thee is benumbed and paralyzed. Tell man 
the objects of your search and he will pass judg- 
ment upon the result of them, and the value of 
your character. Life is below its possibility 
and pressing on toward its condemnation. Fix 
your goal, define your purpose, make the object 
of all effort and sacrifice worthy of manhood and 
immortality. Draw the boundary-line about your 
ideal for human life. Fasten your eye upon it and 
make it the greatest reality. Destiny is in the very 
beginning of life and the earliest thought and plan. 

A Swedish boy fell out of a window and was 
badly hurt, but with pressed lips he kept back the 
cry of pain. The king, Gustavus Adolphus, who saw 
him fall, prophesied that the boy would make a 
man for an emergency. And so he did, for he be- 
came the famous General Bauer. 

Failures and wrecks are all stamped with the lack 
of high resolve. Good education, best training, 
brightest opportunity, most perfect example, have 
been rendered helpless without this leader. The 
fountain rises only to the level of the stream. 
Flabby resolution and low ideal are the creators 
of weak character and low living. He who pur- 

19 



LIFE'S IDEAL 

poses in his heart to maintain a high standard is 
climbing toward an outlook of beauty and inspira- 
tion. He orders not only present events, but is gen- 
eral over the forces of the future. Misfortune and 
disaster enter his life only to be defeated by a man 
of iron, unswerved, even by a hair's breadth, from 
his high resolve and bright ideal. Lincoln rose to 
one of the thrones of the world by the quenchless 
persistency of his ideal. " I have talked with great 
men," he told his fellow clerk and friend Green, 
" and I do not see how they differ from others. I 
can be one of them." In order to keep in practice 
in speaking he walked seven or eight miles to de- 
bating clubs. " Practising Polemics," was what he 
called his exercise. He questioned the school- 
master concerning the advisability of studying 
grammar. " If you are going before the public," 
said his counsellor, " you ought to do it." How 
could he get a grammar? There was but one in the 
neighborhood, and that was six miles away. With- 
out waiting further information he walked immedi- 
ately to the place, borrowed this rare book, and be- 
fore night was buried in its myste^. Every 
moment of his leisure, during the hours of day and 
night, for many weeks, he gave to the study of that 

20 



LIFE'S IDEAL 

book. Lincoln's eagerness to learn became known 
and awakened interest. Books were loaned him, and 
his friends assisted him, and even the village cooper 
allowed him to come into his shop and keep up a 
fire of shavings sufficiently bright to read by at 
night. When he had finished the study of his gram- 
mar he said, " Well, if that's what they call science, 
I think I will go at another." He had learned the 
way to conquer subjects and circumstances. His 
ideal was becoming brighter and clearer and more 
powerful as he moved on heroically toward it. It 
came and stood over the President's chair, and he 
followed it, step by step, with patience and deter- 
mination at either side of him, until he sat upon the 
nation's throne, crowned beneath his life's star. 

" September, 1856, made a new era in my life," 
said George Eliot, " for it was then I began to write 
fiction. It had always been a vague dream of mine 
that, some time or other, I might write a novel; 
and my shadowy conception of what the novel was 
to be varied, of course, from one epoch of my life 
to another, but I never went further toward the 
actual writing of a novel than an introductory chap- 
ter describing a Staffordshire village and the life 
of the neighboring farm-houses, and as the years 

21 



LIFE'S IDEAL 

passed on I lost hope that I should ever be able to 
write a novel, just as I desponded about everything 
else in my future. I always thought I was deficient 
in dramatic power, but I felt I should be at my ease 
in the descriptive part of a novel. One morning, 
as I was thinking what should be the subject of my 
first sketch, my thoughts merged themselves into 
a dreamy doze and I imagined myself writing a 
story, of which the title was " The Sad Fortunes of 
the Rev. Amos Barton." The result was the now 
famous " Scenes from Clerical Life," which 
achieved an instant success almost as great as that 
of ' Waverley,' at its first appearance." It was the 
defining and clarifying of that ideal which flickered, 
but which she never allowed to go out, that made 
her name so famous in the literary world. 

Balzac lived in a garret-room on eleven cents a 
day, and worked incessantly upon dramas and 
comedies, not one of which was accepted, save by 
the rag-picker. He published a romance in his 
thirtieth year, and became at once so famous that 
publishers sought him on all sides. 

" My own revenue," says Hume, " will be suf- 
ficient for a man of letters." 

" Perhaps," says Gibbon, " the mediocrity of my 

22 



LIFE'S IDEAL 

fortune has contributed to fortify my application." 
" If I 'had been born here " (in England), said 
Montesquieu, " nothing could have consoled me 
in failing to accumulate a large fortune; but I do 
not lament the mediocrity of my circumstances in 
France." 

Poor Goldsmith, in distress, with his landlady 
clamoring for her rent, sends out for Johnson; he 
comes, and the great writer, in those circumstances, 
— which have been immortalized by a picture, — 
brings forth a story; Johnson reads it, perceives its 
merit, rushes forth to sell it; the poor writer is re- 
leased from his fear of ejection, and the world be- 
gins to read the " Vicar of Wakefield." 

"What made you plead with such intensity of 
energy? " was asked of Erskine, after that plea 
which brought the briefless barrister into notice. 
" I felt my children tugging at my gown, and ask- 
ing for bread," was his answer. 

Some men have been so persuaded of the stimu- 
lating effects of poverty that they have actually 
sought it. Barry threw his money into the Liffey, 
that he might dispose of temptations to ease and 
luxury. 

When a student was anticipating his first ap- 

23 



LIFE'S IDEAL 

pearance in the intercollegiate games, a friend, 
by way of encouragement, said: "If you do not 
get the gold medal, you may win the silver one." 
The reply came quickly: " I never try for a second 
prize! " 

God never intended the immortal soul to crouch 
in bondage to worldliness, or ignoble ambitions, or 
the baser things of life. It was given the power and 
the liberty to soar and breathe the atmosphere of 
the upper world and live in the skies. There is no 
power sufficient to shackle a man's aspirations. He 
can rise out of a dungeon, and above the fogs of 
skepticism and mock at the chains of his enemy's 
forging. The darkness may wrap itself about his 
world, but borne aloft upon the wings of his ideals, 
he pierces the gold of the sunbeam with his eagle- 
eyed vision. The swallow circles above and close 
to the flowers and grass of the meadow, but the 
eagle lives on the crag and takes long voyages 
among the cloud-islands of the skies and never 
knows weariness. That is the birthright of every 
man at every moment of his world's motion in the 
universe of God. 

" Would you like to know how I was enabled to 
serve my country?" said Admiral Farragut. "It was 

24 



LIFE'S IDEAL 

all owing to a resolution, an ideal I formed when 
I was ten years of age. My father was sent down 
to New Orleans, with the little navy we then had, 
to look after the treason of Burr. I accompanied 
him as cabin-boy. I had some qualities that, I 
thought, made a man of me. I could swear like an 
old salt; could drink as stiff a glass of grog as if I 
had doubled Cape Horn, and could smoke like a 
locomotive ; I was great at cards, and fond of 
gambling in every shape. At the close of the din- 
ner one day, my father turned everybody out of the 
cabin, locked the door, and said to me: "David, 
what do you mean to be? " " I mean to follow the 
sea." "Follow the sea! Yes, be a poor, miser- 
able drunken sailor before the mast, kicked and 
cuffed about the world, and die in some fever hos- 
pital in a foreign clime." " No," I said, " I'll tread 
the quarterdeck, and command, as you do." " No, 
David, no boy ever trod the quarterdeck with such 
principles as you have and such habits as you 
exhibit. You will have to change your whole 
course of life if you ever become a man." 

My father left me and went on deck. I was 
stunned by the rebuke and overwhelmed with mor- 
tification. " A poor, miserable drunken sailor be- 

25 



LIFE'S IDEAL 

fore the mast, kicked and cuffed about the world, 
and to die in some fever hospital." " That's my 
fate, is it? I'll change my life and change it at 
once. I will never utter another oath. I will never 
drink another drop of intoxicating liquors. I will 
never gamble. And as God is my witness, I have 
kept those three vows to this hour." The cherish- 
ing of such ambitions was his salvation, and gave 
to America one of its brightest stars. 

Frequently a false pride in ancestral blood, or 
position, and an unworthy self-conceit, or ruinous 
vanity has blasted highest ideals and closed the 
gates of golden opportunity. 

Chief Justice Chase was once riding on the cars 
through Virginia, and they stopped at a little, in- 
significant town, and they told him that Patrick 
Henry was born there. He stepped out on the 
platform and said: " Oh, what a magnificent scene! 
What glorious mountains! What an atmosphere 
this is! I don't wonder that a place like this gave 
birth to a Patrick Henry." A rustic stood near 
him and heard his remarks, and said: "Yes, 
stranger, them mountains have been there ever 
since I can recollect, and the atmosphere hasn't 
changed much, and the scenery is about the same, 

26 



LIFE'S IDEAL 

but I haven't seen any more Patrick Henrys lying 
around here, that I can remember." 

Environment and advantage give birth to pride, 
but not to nobility. The one essential element to 
success, and character, and influence is a worthy 
purpose — is an ideal with a conscience in it. This 
can be attained only by fidelity to toil in the un- 
seen and minute performances of duty. We rise 
upon what we wish to be by a constant effort. The 
upward pathway is the result of past achievement. 
The present is the cradle of the future. Loyalty to 
the details of duty in the present sphere is essential 
to coming reward and glory. The present demands, 
heard, and righteously heeded, are the foundation- 
stones for future architectural stability and beauty. 
If this, which is elemental, be not carefully laid and 
cemented, there will be crashing of the upper stories 
and ruin of life's hope. Worthiness of greater ele- 
vation depends entirely upon the perfection and 
solidity of the under-work. Prove your claims to 
higher position by completing the service in the 
lower. All climbing is up a lofty and dangerous 
mountain-side. There are curves and precipices 
which make it impossible to return. To go back 
is to fall. The only safety is on and up. Achieve- 

27 



LIFE'S IDEAL 

merit will never permit a man to rest. There is no 
satisfaction, and no vacation, in accomplishment. 
It creates yearning and anxiety. Aspiration forces 
effort and upward movement until the summit is 
reached and the companionship of the victors and 
hosts angelic tell us we are upon the heights of 
heaven. The purely temporal, and material, and 
worldly are too low for inspiration. They are the 
destroyers of ideals and worthy ambitions. They 
leave the upper stories all unused, with dust 
and cobweb to cover the windows and destroy the 
outlook. The spiritual is man's glory. The lion is 
stronger than he; the eagle is swifter than he; the 
bee equals his genius for building; but he surpasses 
all creation in his reason, and imagination, and 
moral sentiment, and power of framing and securing 
his ideals. A mine is not man's riches; a store is 
not man's world. The skill of a mechanic and the 
success of a merchant are not sufficient for high liv- 
ing. This is bankruptcy. Low ideals in the mind 
will not support a lofty character. The model must 
be in the eye before the artist paints or carves skil- 
fully. The greatest controlling force in life is the 
ideal of life. It cannot be hid. It will come out in 
the very face of Judas, or in the face of John. This 

28 



LIFE'S IDEAL 

is the written and indelible language of every deed. 
It is the mark of direction which reveals the way 
we aVe going. 

" A man may play the fool in the drifts of the 
desert," says Emerson, " but every grain of sand 
shall seem to see. He may be a solitary eater, but 
he cannot keep his foolish counsel. A broken com- 
plexion, a swinish look, ungenerous acts, and the 
want of due knowledge, — all blab. Can a cook, a 
Chiffinch, an Iachimo be mistaken for Zeno or 
Paul? Confucius exclaimed: ' How can a man be 
concealed! How can a man be concealed! ' 

" On the other hand, the hero fears not that, if 
he withhold the avowal of a just and brave act, it 
will go unwitnessed and unloved. One knows it 
himself, — and is pledged by it to sweetness of peace 
and to nobility of aim, which will prove, in the end, 
a better proclamation of it than the relating of the 
incident." 

To always keep before the eye of the soul the 
highest ideal calls for one of the sternest struggles. 
In this is the only redemption of life from the low 
and the common, the earthly and the unreal. 
Tiberius lived in a most luxurious age, and a most 
luxurious city, and a most luxurious palace. The 

29 



LIFE'S IDEAL 

wealth of the world was his. He was acquainted 
with all of the world pleasures. His wishes 
were transformed instantly into realities. His mar- 
ble palace stood in the world's most beautiful en- 
vironment of climate, and flowers, and fruit, and the 
material riches of earth, but his luxury and his 
gratified desires made him a most miserable spec- 
imen of humanity. His very manner of life was the 
murderer of true royalty and nobility. In a letter, 
written to the Conscript Fathers, he gives utterance 
to perhaps the most dismal wail that ever escaped 
a human heart. " What to write you, Conscript 
Fathers, or what not to write, may the gods and 
goddesses consume me, more than they eternally 
do, if I know." Miserable man ! No wonder, 
though you take your place in the niche of history 
as " Tristissimus hominum." 

Ideals are the knights to destroy the low and 
animal remnants in every man. They smite the sor- 
did and mean with a death blow. The disappoint- 
ments and failures have made most men to accept 
something lower than the purpose and plan of the 
morning hour of life. The noon-day heat has made 
them faint and ready to give up, and, therefore, they 
accepted the less and contented themselves with the 

30 



LIFE'S IDEAL 

half-way station up the mountain-side and never 
stood above the clouds. Ideals are not evanescent 
beauty upon life's clouds. They are the realities 
of which the bright coloring is the symbol. They 
are that for wiiich the bow circles the darkness. 
They are the promises of God. An ideal is not 
an air-castle. The one has existence only in a 
dream; the other is a part of real life. The one 
lulls a man to sleep; the other awakens him to 
earnest and crowning activity. It is the indolent 
man's dream to sing of the mighty deeds he is going 
to do, and the vast mines of wealth he is to possess, 
and the great influence he is destined to wield, and 
the whole calendar of summer days without a with- 
ered leaf of autumn-time or snow-flake in the sky. 
That is an air-castle and floats away in the mist and 
haze without foundation in principle, or anchorage 
in reason. Life's ideal must be wedded to tireless 
and deathless energy. The future holds only rub- 
bish in its hands for the man who attempts, by un- 
righteous divorce, to separate these two. It is the 
holiest matrimony. They say that man is the archi- 
tect of his own destiny, but a builder is quite as 
essential as an architect. Real living is building 
upon actual conditions and according to divine 

31 



LIFE'S IDEAL 

plans. Life is in the present but for the future. 
Shape the ideal out of the actual. Condition does 
not change only as the accomplishment of the pur- 
pose changes it. It is the small and passing word, 
and act, and thought, which are the threads of gold 
in the pattern of life, and in the perfect fabric. Each 
day has its proportion, or the development is 
neither harmonious nor stable. What we will do is 
prophesied in what we do. The victory for the 
ideal depends upon the blood which enters into the 
real. To-morrow is indissolubly connected with to- 
day. Living up to the fulness of to-day's possibili- 
ties is the only road to the king's palace. Dreams 
can be made realities; air-castles changed into 
fortresses; and life's ideals certain of attainment by 
a living resolution to make the most of the present 
moment. It is an easy task to make declaration 
concerning what we will do or what we would do 
after every " if." The indicative mood is better in 
the sentence of life. It is a weakness itself to con- 
tinually say " If I were." It is monarch-like to say 
" I am," " I do." You may never have a million 
dollars, but one-millionth part of that vast sum car- 
ries with it the same tremendous possibility and 
responsibility. What a man does with the dollar 

32 



LIFE'S IDEAL 

he will do with the million. What he does with 
one moment of time he will do with a year. What 
he does with one book he will do with a library. 
What he does with small opportunity he will do 
with the larger. What he does in ordinary life, he 
will do in the moment when he declared he would 
reveal startling courage and heroism. Our safety 
is only in having high purpose and clear vision and 
incessant toil toward their realization. Every man, 
necessarily, and by a law as rigid as the law of 
gravitation, goes toward his ideal and in propor- 
tion to his activity and energy. The golden steps 
in the stairway to every throne are made out of the 
pure metal of earnestness, and energy, and grit, and 
determination, and conquered failures. Highest 
elevations are reached by treading upon the dead 
past. Victory has often been won out of the very 
jaws of defeat. Mistakes should be only teachers 
in life's school to spur us on. 

WhenBeecherwasan under-graduate he went out 
to a neighborhood schoolhouse to conduct a prayer 
service. When he attempted to speak his thoughts 
took wings and deserted him, and his speaking was 
a failure. This aroused him, he determined to over- 
come his embarrassment, and won. The first ap- 

33 



LIFE'S IDEAL 

pearance of Disraeli as a speaker in the House of 
Commons was a dismal failure. Loud laughter 
greeted every sentence. But his closing word was 
a prophecy: " I have begun several times many 
things; and have succeeded in them at last. I shall 
sit down now, but the time will come when you 
shall hear me." And it soon appeared. 

" When you get into a tight place/' says Harriet 
Beecher Stowe, " and everything goes against you, 
till it seems as if you could not hold on a minute 
longer, never give up then, for that is just the place 
and time that the tide will turn." 

A phrenologist, examining the head of the Duke 
of Wellington, said: " Your grace has not the organ 
of animal courage fully developed." " You are 
right," replied the great man: "and, but for my 
sense of duty, I should have retreated in my first 
fight." The Duke of Wellington saw a soldier turn 
pale as he marched up to a battery. " That is a 
brave man," said he; "he knows his danger, and 
faces it." That is grit as I understand it. 

After the defeat at Essling, the success of 
Napoleon's attempt to withdraw his beaten army 
depended on the character of Massena, to whom 
the emperor dispatched a messenger, telling him to 

34 



LIFE'S IDEAL 

keep his position for two hours longer at Aspen. 
This order, couched in the form of a request, re- 
quired almost an impossibility. But Napoleon 
knew the indomitable tenacity of the man to whom 
he gave it. The messenger found Messena seated 
on a heap of rubbish, his eyes bloodshot, his frame 
weakened by his unparalleled exertions during a 
contest of forty hours, and his whole appearance 
indicating a physical state better befitting the hos- 
pital than the field. But that steadfast soul seemed 
altogether unaffected by bodily prostration. Half 
dead as he was with fatigue, he rose painfully and 
said: " Tell the Emperor that I will hold out for 
two hours." And he kept his word. " Never 
despair," says Burke, " but if you do, work on in 
despair." 

You see John Knox preaching the coronation 
sermon of James VI., and arraigning Queen Mary 
and Lord Darnley in a public discourse at Edin- 
burgh, and telling the French ambassador to go 
home and call his king a murderer; John Knox 
making all Christendom feel his moral power, and 
at his burial the Earl of Morton saying: " Here 
lieth a man who in his life never feared the face of 
man." Where did John Knox get much of his 

35 



LIFE'S IDEAL 

schooling for such resounding and everlasting 
achievement? He got it while in chains pulling 
at the boat's oar in French captivity. Michael 
Faraday, one of the greatest in the scientific world, 
did not begin by lecturing in the university. He 
began by washing bottles in the experimenting- 
room of Humphrey Davy. " Hohenlinden," the 
immortal poem of Thomas Campbell, was first re- 
jected by a newspaper editor, and in the notes to 
correspondents appeared the words: "To T. C. 

The lines commencing, ' On Linden when the 

sun was low/ are not up to our standard. Poetry 
is not T. C.'s forte." 

Frederick Douglass made a visit to his birth- 
place in Talbot County, Md., for the purpose of 
purchasing a beautiful villa, and in a talk to a col- 
ored school said: " I once knew a little colored boy 
whose mother and father died when he was but six 
years old. He was a slave, and no one to care for 
for him. He slept on a dirt floor in a hovel, and 
in cold weather would crawl into a meal-bag head 
foremost and leave his feet in the ashes to keep him 
warm. Often he would roast an ear of corn and 
eat it to satisfy his hunger, and many times has he 
crawled under the barn or stable and secured eggs, 

36 



LIFE'S IDEAL 

which he would roast in the fire and eat. That boy 
did not wear pants like you do, but a tow-linen 
shirt. Schools were unknown to him, and he 
learned to spell from an old Webster spelling-book 
and to read and write from posters on cellar and 
barn doors, while boys and men would help him. 
He would then preach and speak, and soon became 
well known. He became presidential elector, 
United States marshal, United States recorder, 
United States diplomat, and accumulated some 
wealth. He wore broadcloth and didn't have to 
divide crumbs with the dogs under the table. That 
boy was Frederick Douglass. What was possible 
for me is possible for you. Don't think because you 
are colored you can't accomplish anything. Strive 
earnestly to add to your knowledge. So long as 
you remain in ignorance so long you will fail to 
command the respect of your fellow men." 

Always look up, but never give up. God is ever 
lovingly whispering to man, fix your goal and " My 
grace is sufficient for thee." The highest ideal is 
touched by the Eternal, and bears the name of 
character. The perfect pattern and only worthy 
ideal for humankind is the Christ. He alone pos- 
sesses the mystery of the highest ideal and the 

37 



LIFE'S IDEAL 

power to attain it. There is a spiritual hunger 
which makes every mortal gravitate toward him. 
Before the needle of the compass is magnetized it 
lies in any position, but when thrilled and electrified 
by the magnetic force, it points forever in the one 
direction. So the low and aimless life, when 
touched by the spirit of Christ, invariably and 
eternally points in the one direction. To be like 
Christ is the great circle which sweeps every other 
ideal and ambition within its circumference. As 
Shakespeare reveals an ideal for the young poet, 
and Raphael unveils the future for the young artist, 
so Jesus Christ stands out unique and alone as the 
ideal for human character. 

David Livingston first saw Christ and longed to 
be like Him before he was crucified in the darkness 
of Africa. In obedience to his holy vision he liter- 
ally placed a cross upon the dark continent. He 
journeyed north into the depths of heathenism; he 
then came back part of the distance and fell upon 
his knees to pray for Africa; he then went directly 
east to the coast and came back to fall again upon 
his knees in the same place and pray for Africa; he 
then forced his way directly westward to the coast 
and again returned to the same centre to fall upon 

38 



LIFE'S IDEAL 

his knees and pray for Africa. On this cross he 
lay and cried from the depths of his soul in obedi- 
ence to the most sacred ideal of life, " God bless all 
men who, in any way, help to heal this open sore 
of the world. God save Africa." With that sancti- 
fied prayer upon his lips they found him upon his 
knees in death. His heathen friends lovingly car- 
ried his body through jungle and forest to the wait- 
ing vessel which brought him to the shores of Eng- 
land and placed him in Westminster Abbey, where 
his name is carved high among the world's noblest 
and best, and angel hands placed one of the bright- 
est crowns upon his royal brow. 

The pathway to the highest glory on earth or in 
heaven is obedience to the ideal in the life and sacri- 
fice of the world's Redeemer. 



39 



Everything cries out to us that we must renounce. Thou 
must go without ; go without! Thai is the everlasting song 
which every hour of our life through* hoarsely sings to us. 
Die, and come to life, for so long as this is not accomplished 
ihou art but a troubled guest upon an earth of gloom. — 
Goethe. 

// is when we renounce that, life {properly speaking) 
can be said to begin. In a valiant suffering for others, not 
in a slothful making others suffer for us, did nobleness ever 
lie. — Carlyle. 

What will ye give me P — Judas. 
For me to live is Christ. — Paul. 



40 



II 

LIFE'S PURPOSE 

" Is life worth living? " It depends altogether 
upon the object of your life. Your definition of 
life precedes the answer to that familiar question. 
Here is a man who carried the sentence upon his 
lips, " What will ye give me? " That was the con- 
trolling motive of his life. It took the strength out 
of his arm, the firmness out of his foot, the light- 
ning out of his eye, and the sweetness out of his 
heart. 

Judas was the child of magnificent possibilities; 
beneath his hand lay golden opportunities, but he 
scorned the true riches for the tinsel, and awakened 
to the tragedy of his blunder when it was too late. 
It was his privilege to be where every Christian 
would like to have been. How we have rejoiced 
even in the thought of what it must have been to 
be in the companionship of the Christ for those 
three wonderful years! It was his to look into the 

41 



LIFE'S PURPOSE 

face of Jesus, to grasp His hand of love, to listen 
to His marvellous words, and to see the smile of 
His heavenly joy. He witnessed the constant reve- 
lation of His divinity in His humanity. He received 
that unadulterated love, and heard that holiest 
prayer, and knew that sublimest purpose. This was 
the man who had dined with Christ, and rested with 
Him, and walked with Him. He saw Him touch 
the lame man's foot, the palsied man's hand, the 
blind man's eye, and the deaf man's ear. He had 
even been at the side of the dead man when Jesus 
spoke the words of life. The statement is almost 
too bold for belief that he is the same man who 
walked into the presence of the enemies of his best 
Friend, and the world's noblest character, and said, 
with a miser's spirit and a coward's attitude, 
" What will ye give me? " Money was the most 
sacred thing in the world. He had forgotten 
heaven, and was only familiar with the vocabulary 
of the market, " How much? " That was the most 
important part of life. At that altar he had wor- 
shipped so long and so reverently that even the 
Son of God had to take a second place when the 
critical testing hour came. If that is all there is 
to life, then the rope is a good thing for Judas to 

42 



LIFE'S PURPOSE 

carry in one hand while he holds his money in the 
other. The Son of God was always right, and from 
the heights of His own vision and sacrifice, He 
made no mistake when He turned toward the be- 
trayer and said, " Better for that man had he never 
been born." It is better not to have lived than 
to live a mean, low, selfish life. Dust, earth, and 
ashes may be the composition of existence, but not 
of life. They have meaning in the last ceremony 
when they fall on the casket of a Judas. 

" Life is real, life is earnest, 

And the grave is not its goal; 
Dust thou art, to dust returnest, 
Was not spoken of the soul." 

Here is another man who had not known the 
riches of personal association with the world's 
Saviour. He had in the irreligiousness of his re- 
ligion held the coat as Stephen manifested the same 
spirit as his divine Master while the Jews were 
killing Him. Now he is on the way to mingle more 
Christian blood with the dust of earth. Heaven in- 
terferes. That one look at Jesus was enough. From 
that hour he says he began to live. He reached the 
summit of human life when he said, " For me to 
live is Christ/' He declared that all the past, up 

43 



LIFE'S PURPOSE 

to that hour on the Damascus road, was not a part 
of his life. He first began to live when he began 
to say, " For me to live is Christ." He braved 
every danger and persecution, and even death itself, 
in the strength of that mighty impulse. He lost 
his old self and all its fear and desire for riches, or 
position, or ease. That miraculous and mysterious 
transformation was a definite experience and an 
unquestioned reality. Christ had suddenly come 
into his life as its author, its preserver, its sancti- 
fier, and its eternity. Everything was changed, 
even his name. The Christ of Bethlehem and Naz- 
areth and Gethsemane and Calvary was all in all. 
The difference between Judas and Paul is the differ- 
ence between "How much?" and " To live is 
Christ." The one sold Christ, and the other lived 
Him. The one died the death of a traitor and 
twisted his own rope; the other died the death of 
a martyr, and angels twined laurels for his kingly 
brow. The difference between the two lives is the 
difference between every great and small life, be- 
tween every man who has visions from a mountain- 
top and every man in a valley. This is not mere 
history; it is present-day reality. We are not far 
removed from this startling contrast in human li'fe. 

44 



LIFE'S PURPOSE 

The principles remain even if the words on the 
page change. Names in the sentence may change 
from Judas to James, but the elemental laws of the 
world never change. There will always be the 
same wide chasm between " Making a living " and 
" Making a life." Making a living is the small, 
time-serving, dwarfed and paralyzed man's object. 
Making a life is the kingly, immortal, character- 
worshipping man's object. The one lives in the 
narrow, prison-limited circle of self, and the other 
in a world which is bounded only when infinity 
and eternity have limits. There is no circumfer- 
ence to the life lived outside of self. Mere making 
a living only touches the crust of existence and 
makes the most successful man cry out, " Vanity 
of vanities, all is vanity." Making a life is the pri- 
mary and the essential. Better for Judas had he 
never been born, than to buy bread with his thirty 
pieces of silver. Making a living depends upon 
temporal circumstances. Making a life rests upon 
eternal principles. Making a life does not depend 
upon riches, or fame, or health, or anything except 
a holy principle and an undying purpose. Every 
man comes within the sweep of this radiant possi- 
bility. 

45 



LIFE'S PURPOSE 

Making a life is to live outside of self. Why did 
Carlyle callRuskin "The seer that guides his gener- 
ation? " Where did he worthily secure such praise? 
Ruskin was the child of genius. Fortune had been 
lavish with him. He inherited and earned a vast 
amount of money. He became a literary star when 
only twenty-one years of age — a star of almost first 
magnitude. Every pathway was brilliantly lighted 
for his feet, and every door was opened for his en- 
trance, and every honor was ready for his posses- 
sion. He saw further than other men, and could 
lead the host. He turned away from this golden 
path to forget himself and to live in the lives of 
others. He was willing to walk on Whitechapel 
Road and breathe the air of the poverty-stricken 
districts of London; to behold the intense suffering 
of the overworked and underpaid men, women, 
and children. He saw their brains reel, and bodies 
weaken, and hearts faint beneath the tremendous 
burdens of life. He saw enfeebled and disease-rid- 
den children born from such ancestry into a world 
of darkness. He looked at the scene so sympa- 
thetically and so continuously that the city of Lon- 
don seemed to him to turn into a gigantic ceme- 
tery, and hospital, and prison, and asylum. He 

46 



LIFE'S PURPOSE 

possessed more than a million of money, but that 
was not his life. He cried not, " How much can 
I get out of this human blood? " but, " How much 
can I give for its purification and redemption? " 
He gave one-tenth, then one-third, then one-half, 
and at last his whole fortune, in sublimest sacri- 
fice. He lived with the poor and for them. He 
formed clubs and schools, and brightened their 
lives with new ideas and new opportunities. He 
broke their shackles and set them free. He enlisted 
other men, and his own art students, in this divine 
service. His life was literally laid upon another 
cross, but he lives among the immortals, and won 
a triumphant victory through the operation of the 
sublimest principles in human life. 

A man finds heaven in an act of sacrifice, even 
if death ends all. Goodness is self-rewarding. 
Heaven is in the action itself. The slightest act for 
others carries its own blessing to the heart that 
lives outside of itself. It has in it the sweetness 
of life, but it is also a grain of mustard-seed which 
carries a hundred-fold and an eternal harvest. It 
is the supremest folly and basest philosophy which 
says, "'' Eat it up, consume it, for to-morrow we 
die." Be happy now. Begin your heaven; do not 

47 



LIFE'S PURPOSE 

wait for some far-off distant land. Drink in this 
sunshine; it is part of the upper world. Selfishness 
is the cause of your trouble and your sadness. It 
gathers every cloud in one place and forces them 
to meet in a terrific thunder-storm. Banish selfish- 
ness, and you drive away clouds, and darkness, and 
ghostly noises. 

When Carlyle placed that bright crown upon the 
brow of Ruskin, he had written, " Oh, it is great, 
and there is no other greatness — to make one nook 
of God's creation more fruitful, better, more worthy 
of God; to make some human heart a little wiser, 
manlier, happier, more blessed, less accursed." 

Some one has said, " What youth who has a par- 
ticle of ambition or self-respect would not hang 
his head in shame for his useless, aimless, shiftless 
life, after reading the story of such men as Arthur 
Kavanaugh, who, although born without arms or 
legs, yet lifted himself, by an inborn determination 
that he would rise to distinction and honor? His 
life was a wonderful lesson for American youth 
who feel that they have no chance, merely because 
they are obscure and poor. His success shows that 
there is scarcely any difficulty, impediment, or de- 

48 



LIFE'S PURPOSE 

fortuity which downright hard work and manly 
grit may not overcome. 

The armless and legless youth was determined 
to show the world that he could do almost any- 
thing that anybody else could do, in spite of his 
frightful deformity. He learned to shoot well, was 
a skilful sailor and fisherman, and was considered 
one of the best horseback riders in Ireland. He 
also wrote well, holding his pen in his teeth, as he 
also did his bridle when he rode. He was a great 
hunter, and gained quite a reputation in India for 
his hunting exploits with tigers and other wild 
beasts. 

What folly, audacity, and presumption for a 
youth with neither arms nor legs to attempt to 
get into Parliament. Of course everybody laughed 
at him, everybody said it was ridiculous, but he 
knew better. He knew that determination, untir- 
ing industry, and grit can accomplish almost any- 
thing in the world. His ambition was gratified, 
and Arthur Kavanaugh gained a seat in the House 
of Commons. 

The world ought to bow before such heroism 
and triumph. But that of itself is not the best of 
life. As Ruskin's money was not Ruskin's life, so 

49 



LIFE'S PURPOSE 

Kavanaugh's position was not Kavanaugh's life. 
To live is not only to get into Parliament, but to 
be a Gladstone or a Shaftesbury in the sacrifice of 
self for the sake of human rights. Mere position 
may be a part of heaven's condemnation. It is 
the use of that position for the sake of suffering 
humanity in which the highest life is found. The 
fame which is of value is that which is born in sac- 
rifice and rocked in the cradle of service. 

The wise man and the fool die, and nature makes 
no difference as to burial. The good man and the 
bad man die, and the bad man is likely to have 
the better tombstone of the two. Every man is 
stunned, and bewildered, and confounded by the 
mysteries around his world and human existence. 
You might not detect the difference between the 
dog's grave and the man's, after the priest or the 
preacher has stepped back and the shovel has done 
its work. The fool leaves a will, and the wise man 
an example, and the world cares more for the will 
than it does for the character. Even his nearest 
friends hasten to open the one and neglect to read 
the other. " He seeth that wise men die, likewise 
the fool and the brutish person perish, and leave 
their wealth to others." A thorn fence of interro- 

50 



LIFE'S PURPOSE 

gation-points surrounds this condition. Only G 
can open the unseen gate and lead a man out into 
larger vision and higher living. This gate has a 
secret latch, and only the sacrificial hand can open 
it. The young person begins life by accepting the 
popular theory that there are certain objects which, 
attained, bring happiness. He awakens after his 
dreams and struggles to see those who have riches 
wanting more and never satisfied. The man with 
fame, envied, slandered, and unhappy. Even love 
itself has lost power to produce joy. Success itself 
has no value, only when the Columbus spirit has 
discovered the hidden secret of how to be success- 
ful with success. All these things, which the world 
terms success, and value, and happiness, may be 
hindrances, and sometimes even a curse. Riches 
of every form must be employed for others' good, 
if they are to be of value. Real life is outside of 
possessions, and positions, and pleasures. That is 
not joy which is poisoned by a single drop of self- 
ishness. It has lost heaven's touch. 

A beautiful incident of Agassiz's early years re- 
veals the secret of the noble life of that brilliant 
and victorious genius. It illustrates his whole life. 
He began right. He lived in Switzerland, on the 

5i 



LIFE'S PURPOSE 

border of a lake. He had a little brother, and the 
two boys thought they would like to join their 
father. The lake was covered with ice, and they 
were to walk across. 

The mother stood by the window watching them 
- — anxious as mothers are — seeing them getting 
along very well, till at length they came to a crack 
in the ice, perhaps a foot wide. Her heart failed 
her. She thought, " That little fellow will try to 
step over; Louis will get over well enough, but the 
little fellow will fall in." 

She could not call to them — they were too far. 

What could she do? She watched him, and, as she 

watches, Louis got down on the ice, his feet on one 

side of the crack, and his hands on the other, just 

like a bridge, and his little brother crept over him 

to the other side. Then Louis got up, and they 

went on their way to their father. There is winter 

everywhere. The ice is full of cracks. There are 

helpless souls on the other side. The ice is wet. 

Will you get down? You must first get down if 

you would get up. You must be a bridge if you 

would be an Agassiz. If you would know the joy 

of a great soul, you must first know the sacrifice. 

Real pleasure is not found where most men are 

52 



LIFE'S PURPOSE 

searching, for they are lost in the woods of a false 
philosophy. The gold is found only in the deep 
mines of God's higher law. We are such dull schol- 
ars in God's school, we never learn from history. 
Every man must make his own errors and place 
his own foot upon God's laws. We do not believe 
the other man, but walk right up to the hot stove 
and blister our own fingers before we are wise 
enough to leave it alone. It was one of the lessons 
of the cradle, and the high chair, and the school 
room, and life's larger college, that the things of 
time and sense, grasped by the hand of selfishness, 
can never satisfy the heart of man. In the centre 
of his fame and luxury every Solomon cries out, 
" Vanity — vexation of spirit," and heaves a heavy 
sigh for something better. 

' But they that will be rich fall into temptation 
and a snare, and into many foolish and hurtful 
lusts which drown men in destruction and perdi- 
tion." 

" For the love of money is the root of all evil, 
while some coveted after they have erred from the 
faith and pierced themselves through with many 
sorrows." 

Hearken to the man who says: " For me to live 

53 



LIFE'S PURPOSE 

is Christ." • " Godliness with contentment is great 
gain." " Having food and raiment, let us be there- 
with content." I have learned that in whatsoever 
state I am, therewith to be content." 

Man is an irrational creature when it comes to 
the realms of morals; the same man is sometimes 
great intellectually, but morally he is a madman. 
Contemptibly weak when off his special line. With 
everything in his favor, and the world calling him 
successful, he fails to extract any sweetness out of 
life, because he has never touched the right princi- 
ple. Making a living has meant more to him than 
making a life. In fact, he has never discovered that 
wide distinction. He is perfectly familiar with 
what Judas said, but has never heard Paul's motto. 
The millions and mountain-tops of the world are 
not producers of joy. I saw in a narrow alley three 
children with dusky skin, bare feet, and tattered 
garments. The oldest boy had found an empty 
box, some blocks and sticks, and, out of these rude 
materials, had constructed a movable cart. He 
placed, lovingly, the two little black relatives in 
the carriage, and then said, with delight, and the 
touch of the other world upon it: " 111 ride you as 
long as you want me to. I made it for you." I 

54 



LIFE'S PURPOSE 

saw that same day a coachman and footman drive 
the spangled team and cushioned carriage to the 
palace door. The occupants were marked by the 
world's care. There was deeper joy in the alley 
than on the avenue. The colored boy knew more 
of life than the millionaire. The empty soap-box 
was better than the carriage. The life outside of 
self was the one essential. Service for others is 
the one real service for self. 

Making the highest life is to live in Christ. He 
holds the ideal of life, He holds the strength to at- 
tain it, as He holds the crown for its reward. The 
principles which control this life in Him are con- 
trary to the world's principles. He startles the 
world by declaring that " Loss is gain/' " Giving 
is saving/' " Death is life." 

His ideal is character, not something that is 
added to life, but that eternal something which is 
life itself. If a man is to live in Him, then He must 
live in this ideal. If He came to carry a cross, I 
must carry a cross. If He came to be ministered 
unto, I must serve. If He came to give His life 
a ransom, I must be ready to die for others. If He 
came to seek and save the lost, that must be my 

55 



LIFE'S PURPOSE 

mission. In this kind of a life, what may seem loss 
to the world will be gain to me. 

The rich young man may keep all the command- 
ments, but the life in Christ demands the complete 
surrender, and says, " Sell all that thou hast and 
give to the poor, and follow me." 

Men are unwilling to submit to this demand of 
the higher life, and are blind to the fact that dying 
things cannot give undying pleasure. They con- 
tinue to act as if the things of this world could 
give unperishable delight. It is a crooked path 
which most people take to reach the side of Christ. 
There is a straight and narrow path to Christ and 
to His life, but they cross the fields and pick the 
flowers, and waste time, and get lost before they 
begin to ask the solemn questions. 

The floods washed away home and mill — all the 
poor man had in the world. But as he stood on the 
scene of his loss, after the water had subsided, 
broken-hearted and discouraged, he saw something 
on the bank which the water had washed bare. " It 
looks like gold," he said. It was gold. The flood 
which had beggared him had made him rich. 

The gold of life is oftentimes discovered only 
when all that the world calls life is swept away. 

56 



LIFE'S PURPOSE 

A man who might carve statutes and paint pictures, 
spending his life in making mock-flowers out of 
wax and paper, is wise compared with the man who 
might have God for company, and yet shuts God 
out and lives an empty life. Bury your little theo- 
ries, give life and power to the divine ideal. There 
is no mistake with God. Selfishness shall not be 
triumphant. Give God all the time He asks. 
These principles were not made by little man for 
his petty uses. They were made with strength in 
them. This is the calm of heaven in which a man 
can sun himself. 

This life, in the purpose of the Son of God, can 
be attained only by the strength which He im- 
parts. "Apart from 'Me ye can do nothing." "I 
can do all things through Christ, who strengthen- 
ed me." " I have given you an example." " My 
grace is sufficient for thee." This makes the great 
contrast between men in similar circumstances in 
life. " Two merchants lived side by side in the 
same street. Both were prosperous, but one was 
a Christian, and the other was not. In a commer- 
cial panic, both went down, and, at fifty years, had 
to begin life again. The merchant who was not a 
Christian promptly committed suicide. The other, 

57 



LIFE'S PURPOSE 

with unfaltering faith in God, never let go the peace 
that passeth understanding. He kept his place in 
the church, and none could ever tell that he en- 
dured hardships, for his soul remained full of peace 
which God alone can give." 

This life in Christ is mystery, but also glorious 
reality. No human life can carry a grander sen- 
tence than, " For me to live is Christ." To live in 
His purpose, and through His strength, and to re- 
ceive His approval. 

" By this time to-morrow, I shall have gained a 
peerage or a place in Westminster Abbey," Nelson 
said to his officers before the battle of the Nile. 
Admiral Nelson was made a baron, with a pension 
of £2,000. After the battle of Copenhagen he was 
made a viscount. Four years later came his fatal, 
crowning victory of Trafalgar. Although mortally 
wounded, he lived to know that the triumph w T as 
complete. 

" Kiss me, Hardy," said the dying hero. 

Truly, 

" The bravest are the tenderest, 
The loving are the daring." 

" Thank God, I have done my duty," and " God 
and country," were his last words. 

58 



LIFE'S PURPOSE 

But infinitely better than a peerage or a place in 
Westminster Abbey will be the crowning of the 
humblest child of the King, who, before all the 
hosts of heaven and earth, shall hear him say, " In- 
asmuch -as ye have done it unto one of the least of 
these my brethren, ye have done it unto me." 

In Sherman's campaign it became necessary, in 
the opinion of the leader, to change commanders. 
O. O. Howard was promoted to lead a division 
which had been under command of another gen- 
eral. Howard went through the campaign at the 
head of the division, and on to Washington to take 
part in the review. The night before the veterans 
were to march down Pennsylvania Avenue, General 
Sherman sent for General Howard, and said to him, 
" Howard, the politicians and the friends of the 
man whom you succeeded are bound that he shall 
ride at the head of his old corps, and I want you to 
help me out." 

:c But it is my command," said Howard, " and I 
am entitled to ride at its head." 

" Of course you are," said Sherman. " You led 
them through Georgia and the Carolinas, but, 
Howard, you are a Christian." 

"What do you mean?" replied Howard. "If 

59 



LIFE'S PURPOSE 

you put it on that ground it changes the whole 
business. " What do you mean, General Sher- 
man? " 

" I mean that you can stand the disappointment. 
You are a Christian. " 

" Putting it on that ground, there is but one an- 
swer. Let him ride at the head of the corps." 

" Yes, let him have the honor," added Sherman; 
" but, Howard, you will report to me at nine 
o'clock, and ride by my side at the head of the 
whole army." In vain Howard protested, but 
Sherman said, gently, but authoritatively, " You are 
under my orders." 

When the bugle sounded the next morning 
Howard was found trembling like a leaf, and it re- 
quired another order from General Sherman before 
he was willing to take the place assigned to him. He 
had, as a Christian, yielded the place to another 
which rightly belonged to him, and, in the grand 
review, found himself not at the head of the corps, 
but at the head of the army. 

When the white horse and his Rider come down 
the skies in everlasting triumph, self-sacrifice shall 
carry the crown of glory. 



60 



To live content with small means ; to seek elegance rather 
than luxury, and refinement rather than fashion ; to be 
worthy, not respectable, and wealthy, not rich ; to listen to stars 
and birds, babes and sages, with open heart ; to study hard ; 
to think quietly, act frankly, talk gently, aivait occasions, 
hurry never ; in a word, to let the spiritual, unbidden and 
unconscious grow up through the common — this is my 
symphony. — William Henry Channing. 

Progress mans distinctive mark alone, 
Not God's and not the beasts ; God is ; they are, 
Man partly is and wholly hopes to be. 

— Browning. 

Life is a series of surprises. We do not guess to-day the 
mood, the pleasure, the power, of to-morrow when we are 
building up our being. A lower states — of acts, of routine 
and sense, we can tell somewhat, but the masterpieces of God, 
the total growths and universal movements of the soul, He 
hidelh. They are incalculable. I can know that truth is 
divine and helpful, but how it shall help me I can have no 
guess for so to be is the soul inlet of so to know. The new 
position of the advancing man has all the powers of the old, 
yet has them all now. It carries in its bosom all the ener- 
gies of the past, yet is itself an exhalation of the morning. 
I cast away in this new moment all my once hoarded knowl- 
edge as vacant and vain. Now, for the first time, seem I to 
know anything rightly. The simplest words, we do not 
know what they mean except when we love and aspire. — 
Emerson. 



61 



Ill 

LIFE'S PROGRESS 

The genius and hope of human life is in its prog- 
ress. The sublime possibilities in manhood are the 
pillar of cloud by day and the pillar of fire by night. 
They are the abiding companions of the hard and 
perilous journey, but prophesy victory and the land 
of promise. The child holds the acorn and ques- 
tions its mystery; then drops it upon the ground 
and presses it into the earth beneath his tiny foot. 
A few years pass by, and upon that same soil stands 
the stalwart form of a man. He has been a war- 
rior on the battlefields of his country, and now 
proudly wears the mark of courage and patriot- 
ism. He has an eye with the lightnings in it, and 
a voice which carries the thunders in its com- 
mands. He rules the thousands at will. Now he 
is under the shadow of a gigantic oak which has 
braved the storms of many a winter and furnished 
shelter and delight through the heat of summer. It 

62 



LIFE'S PROGRESS 

is ready to be sacrificed in the building of a king's 
palace or the making of a majestic ship. The oak 
is the acorn, and the soldier is the child. One and 
the same. Progress through the years is the secret 
of the marvellous transformation. The helpless 
babe and kingly man, the tiny acorn and giant for- 
est; this is the startling yet familiar reality. Famil- 
iarity has banished wonder and silenced the teacher. 
The child wrestles with his letters, and how to place 
them in the word and then in the sentence is a con- 
stant puzzle. The great scholar is deciphering 
hieroglyphics or an Egyptian monument and mak- 
ing revelations which are the amazement of the 
student world. The struggling, failing child is the 
scholar of unquestioned authority. They call the 
ragged urchin " Bob." They almost despair in the 
attempt to teach him or to save him. He seems to 
be lost to all consecrated effort. A hopeless waif of 
the streets. They afterward called him Dr. Robert 
Morrison, the first and greatest missionary to 
China. 

This is the hope of manhood and the dignity of 
life. " It doth not yet appear what we shall be." 
There are brightest possibilities for every life here 
and hereafter. This is not an exception to the rule. 

63 



LIFE'S PROGRESS 

No law in the universe need be broken. It is the 
movement of the highest law. It is the object 
toward which every force in the world is working. 
The progress of manhood is the centre around 
which the very world revolves. There is no organic 
life in nature without growth. It is essential in 
both the natural and the spiritual world. There may 
be orthodoxy, or creed, or ceremony, without life, 
but there can be no religion. Progress is elemental 
in Christianity. Growth in grace is one of the fun- 
damental principles. This is the emphatic mark of 
vital religion. There may be reverses and tempo- 
rary backward movements, but the time and the 
seasons fix the buds, and open the blossom, and 
ripen the lucious fruit. The great movements of 
the soul must be forward. Contentment is a grace 
which needs definition and explanation. Satisfac- 
tion with past attainment is unrighteous. The holi- 
est ambition of the soul is progress. When Thor- 
waldsen had finished a statute that satisfied him, in 
deepest sorrow he discovered that his genius had 
departed from him. His great intellect saw that 
failure began at the point beyond which a man 
could push no further. That was the result in his 
life. The statue was his best but his last of real 

64 



LIFE'S PROGRESS 

value. The best in a man ought to grow to the 
last, This is the greatest possibility in every life. 

Progress depends upon a worthy purpose, a 
dauntless will, and a divine force. The holiest pur- 
pose and most worthy ambition of the human soul 
is the aim of perfection of character. A glorious 
possibility. " This one thing I do " was the cry of 
a great heart which understood the value of char- 
acter and appreciated the transformation into the 
very likeness of the perfect Man. Perfection, com- 
pletion, roundness, wholeness, were large words in 
his vocabulary. This is not the dream of a mo- 
ment. It may be as long as eternity and as ex- 
pansive as God, but the bright mark upon which 
every faculty and all ambition and energy is con- 
centrated. Everything else is chasing butterflies 
or following a will-o'-the wisp into the damp, and 
dark, and disease of the night and the swamp. This 
is the reality and the only thing which is affected 
by every part of life. All other things are secondary 
and, when in their proper relation, are assistants to 
it. It is being, not doing. It is not an act, but is 
the achieving of truest nobility. The complete 
realization may be a long distance ahead, but every 
step lessens the journey. Every fraction makes the 

65 



LIFE'S PROGRESS 

million less. Some things in mathematics are never 
exactly measured, but they are used in the prob- 
lem. So is the problem of life worked out by con- 
stant approximation. General Gordon, the great 
English soldier of Khartoum fame, sat in his tent 
reading the " Imitation of Christ," by Thomas 
a Kempis, that book which illustrates the persist- 
ency of self-discipline and the certainty of becom- 
ing more like Christ. He reads and then writes: 
" This is my book, and, although I never shall be 
able to attain to one-hundredth part of the perfec- 
tion of that soul, I strive toward it, the ideal is 
here." Every heart knows aspiration and is con- 
scious of breathing upward and longing for some- 
thing better. These are the sanctified points in life 
that ought to be fastened and toward which the 
effort ought to be made. The goal of the heart 
lies beyond the line of vision. It is not satisfied 
with the narrow boundaries of the earth. It sweeps 
the very last circle of the globe and still cries for 
something more than the riches of earth can give. 
Every heart makes theology, and writes philosophy, 
and repeats to itself great and governing princi- 
ples. There are holy moments when the soul is 
set at liberty and rises to the association of the 

66 



LIFE'S PROGRESS 

brotherhood of angels. The best that is in us is all 
surrendered to a higher purpose, nobler exist- 
ence, better preparation for the eternal future. We 
shake our chains like a slave who has tasted of lib- 
erty and longs to be free from his bondage. It is 
possible for a man to spend the whole circle of his 
days here upon earth under the controlling and 
elevating power of such a sacred ambition. His 
hand seizes the better and clings to it until a verdict 
of justice declares his eternal right to its posses- 
sion. The most subtle temptation to which man is 
subjected is to search for small things, to be guided 
by a low purpose to do that which ten thousand 
lesser creatures are capable of doing, and to neglect 
the special faculty, and grander task, and most im- 
portant part in the plan of the ages. Cleopatra 
said to Mark Antony, " It is not for you to be fish- 
ing for gudgeon, but to be taking forts, and towns, 
and citadels." A king ought not to be building a 
hut, or even a palace, but an empire. A sublime 
and absorbing purpose challenges even the impos- 
sible to hinder a Homer or a Milton. The secret 
of growth, and progress, and triumph is discov- 
ered at the heart of the motive, the ambition and 
the purpose. How often bright, and generous, and 

67 



LIFE'S PROGRESS 

noble young manhood, with ancestry and educa- 
tion pushing it forward, has failed in making any 
visible progress by virtue of having chosen down- 
ward instead of upward. Life's occupation meant 
grasping avariciousness, meanness, miserliness, and 
the destruction of all magnanimity and generosity. 
A money-making scheme and nothing else resulted 
in a money-making machine and nothing else. A 
vocation which narrows and dwarfs, and paralyzes 
the best that is in us, and is deaf to every cry of 
the soul, is an unworthy profession and ruinous in 
its result. The first consideration in the choice of 
an occupation should be its effect upon character. 
The question which ought to be thrust into its very 
heart is, Does it lead upward? If it does not, noble 
manhood must forever reply, It shall not be my 
star or my guide. Life's ambition, to be worthy, 
must have something higher in it than mere wealth, 
or fame, or pleasure. Real values are only found 
in character. Manhood must overtop position. 
Manhood is greater than career. He is king only 
who is above his calling. Old and blind, he feels 
his way into the gallery, and, with uplifted face, 
passes his hand over the Torso of Phidias, and the 

Cardinal hears Michael Angelo say: " Great is this 

68 



LIFE'S PROGRESS 

marble; greater still the hand that carved it; great- 
est of all the God who fashioned the sculptor. I 
still learn; I still learn." Think of this great genius, 
but do not forget that the masterpiece of his life 
was the carving of a magnificent purpose. He was 

never satisfied. He was willing to plod and toil 

* 

for seven long years, decorating the Sistine Chapel 
with his immortal " Last Judgment " and "Story 
of the Creation," until the muscles and chords of 
his neck were forced into such rigidity that he could 
not look down without bending his body. For 
weeks at a time he carried his bread with him on 
the scaffold and worked while he ate, so that not 
a moment should be lost. For days his clothes 
remained upon his. body and his eyes refused sleep. 
A block of marble was always in his sleeping-room. 
The chisel and mallet were ever ready, and the call 
of a new idea was never disobeyed. This was the 
man who immortalized himself in the world of art 
and yet, after he was three score years and ten, 
cried, " I am learning! I am learning! " His educa- 
tion was never finished. His ambition was always 
ahead of him. We read the wonderful romance 
which came from the genius and toil of Hawthorne 
and are unfamiliar with its almost tragical history. 

69 



LIFE'S PROGRESS 

The " Scarlet Letter " was written in its author's 
own blood. That felicity of expression and beauty 
of diction was the result of almost inconceivable 
efforts toward the purpose of his heart. For 
twenty years he worked on unrecognized and un- 
known in this and other books. Some of them he 
burned; some of them were torn in shreds; some of 
them were the combination of a score of note- 
books. A thousand sources centering in the same 
stream. It is this sublime purpose as the control- 
ling force of a man's life which is his inspiration and 
his elevation. It compels the world to recognize its 
owner's worth. They refused Hawthorne, but it 
was necessarily a momentary refusal. Time, with 
drawn sword, stood by as his companion. In the old 
country parsonage Judge Field committed to mem- 
ory the Decalogue and learned the great principles 
of justice, and formulated his determination to be 
absolutely just himself and to give his life in secur- 
ing justice for his fellow men. Circumstances were 
unable to hinder his ambition. Money was not his 
inheritance, nor were his opportunities the best. 
After repeated struggle, the young lawyer arrived 
in San Francisco in 1849 with only ten dollars in his 
pocket. His experience in the mining-camps and 

70 






LIFE'S PROGRESS 

administering justice to the ruffians with whom he 
was compelled to live was a post-graduate course 
in his education. His privations, and escapes, and 
exposures were many and startling. It was a diffi- 
cult undertaking to administer and execute law 
among outlaws. He began his judicial career be- 
hind a drygoods box surmounted by tallow candles. 
He faced guns, and received infernal-machines, and 
passed through most exciting and perilous scenes. 
It was a long training of hardship and misrepre- 
sentation and violence, but even the flash of the 
assassin's knife revealed the marks of nobility upon 
every one of his features. That purpose led him 
on until he occupied a position from which he could 
defy legislatures and Congress, and he did not falter 
in defying the world when he knew he was right. 
Hardship was his blessing, because a worthy pur- 
pose was his salvation. That is the history of every 
career of justice and ascendency of manhood. Prog- 
ress through opposition is one of life's best les- 
sons. This great truth gives value to life and in- 
spiration to service. What the germ may be is the 
protection for it. The future of the boy is his 
guardian in the present. No great sacrifice is made 
for him if he is regarded as a mere animal, to eat, 

7i 



LIFE'S PROGRESS 

and sleep, and die. But if this crude casket of the 
physical carries a jewel of highest value, it is most 
precious and treasured for what it holds. If in the 
child life there is the beginning of a philosopher, or 
a philanthropist, or teacher, or artist, or scholar, or 
noblest character, no care is too great and no labor 
too exacting. Prayer and effort converge toward 
this one point in the world. The present is re- 
garded as the future, and the climax of an endless 
life is sufficient inspiration. One October after- 
noon, while Wendell Phillips was in his office, he 
formulated the purpose of his life. It was some- 
thing of a sudden inspiration, and came in a strange 
pathway. There was a disturbance in the street; 
he threw open the window and saw the mob abus- 
ing Garrison. He heard their blows, and kicks, and 
curses, and watched them dragging him toward the 
jail. That night the young lawyer was sleepless. 
His thoughts were ever upon the cruelty of the 
mob and the wrongs of his fellow men. He asked 
himself a thousand times the question, What is lib- 
erty? He saw visions and heard voices, and that 
morning was the morning hour of his life. Every 
other dream now perished. He made the holy de- 
cision to deny himself every comfort and all ease 

72 



LIFE'S PROGRESS 

and follow where the voice divine summoned him. 
In Faneuil Hall was the first critical moment. He 
must speak or die. The murderers of Lovejoy were 
being justified. " Mr. Chairman/' he said, " when 
I hear the gentlemen lay down principles which 
place the murderers of Alton side by side with 
Otis and Hancock, with Quincy and Adams, I 
thought those pictured lips would have broken into 
voice to rebuke the recreant American for the slan- 
dering of the dead." Those sentences, which burned 
into the souls of his fellow men, thrust him into the 
foremost rank of the world's orators and patriots. 
That was the beginning, but not the ending. 
Hatred, and revilings, and insults were a large part 
of his life, but the very men who once would have 
killed him were afterward ready to build his mon- 
ument. It was that magnificent purpose which 
made his progressive life and gave him triumph 
above his fellows. 

At every step of the upward movement purpose 
must find its sweetest and constant companionship 
in an undaunted will, A hard battle is preparation 
for a harder one. One victory is the forerunner of 
another struggle. Blessed is the man who is reso- 
lute, aggressive, and persistent in this advance 

73 



LIFE'S PROGRESS 

movement. He is already in the hospital and on 
his way to a near-by grave who is resting on his 
laurels. Character is made by the process of de- 
velopment, and not in a sudden or great accretion. 
The best in every man comes at greatest cost. 
There are athletes in religion, and every Daniel 
has been in training for the lion's den. The old 
imperial guards have been on other fields before 
they made the tremendous charge at Waterloo. 
Character is like knowledge, and man must give it 
to others to have it best himself. Self-denial is 
self-increase. Strange doctrine, but the richest, 
ripest element in character. There is a great and 
active principle in life which declares that having 
is not mere possession. Passive possession is the 
grasp of the palsied hand of the mendicant. To 
have is to use and to increase. Real possession is 
receiving more and more. " To him that hath shall 
be given." This is a universal law. There is no 
impunity in its violation. It is a characteristic of 
any organism that use holds the secret of its de- 
velopment. Activity is the condition of growth. 
A machine wears out by use. Life is dependent 
upon exercise. It is the element which adds to the 
power already possessed. The tree spends its 

74 



LIFE'S PROGRESS 

strength against the wind and storm, but it is the 
best possible investment and pays the largest divi- 
dends. The human body is made robust, and 
healthful, and muscular, and beautiful by proper 
exercise and seeming expenditure. The impossible 
of to-day becomes the easy task of to-morrow. 
Giving is keeping. Losing is saving in the divine 
economy. He who does not master an inheritance 
and rightly use it loses it. Whatever effort was 
necessary in getting property is balanced by the 
effort in keeping it. Wise investment is not easy, 
but positively essential. Indolence will always lose. 
Even money does not change hands easily. It is 
at tremendous risk. Its continuous value and se- 
curity depend upon its righteous use. Not using 
anything is losing. A man must work his intel- 
lectual force if there is to be growth of those sacred 
faculties. Brain power increases by expenditure, 
by action, by strain, by toil. The idler dwarfs and 
paralyzes the best that is in him. There is only 
one royal road over which progress moves. It is the 
way of giving, of action, of using, of expenditure, of 
sacrifice. There is no other progress. The gaining, 
growing, godly life must be the sacrificial life. 
Mankind is afraid to put this great principle into 

75 



LIFE'S PROGRESS 

operation. His will becomes frightened before it. 
He fails to realize that forward movement is only 
along this line. He who becomes frightened before 
obstacles and gives up easily, loses all. Progress in 
life and character depends upon a vigorous will, 
meeting even sacrifice without fear. Lofty posi- 
tions and real riches are only gained by a refusal 
to ever repeat the word impossible. " It is not a 
i lucky word/ this same impossible," says Carlyle. 
No good comes of those who have it often in their 
mouth. Who is he that says always there is a lion 
in the way? Sluggard, thou must slay the lion 
then. The way is to be travelled. Poetry demon- 
strated to be impossible arises the Burns, arises the 
Goethe. In heroic, commonplace being, now 
clearly all we have to look for, comes the Napoleon, 
comes the conquest of the world. It was proved 
by fluxionary calculus that steamships could never 
get across from the farthest point of Ireland to the 
nearest of Newfoundland. Impelling force, resist- 
ing force, maximum here, minimum there, by law 
of nature and geometric demonstrations, proved 
what could be done. The Great Western could 
weigh anchor from Bristol port, that could be done. 
The Great Western bounding safe through the gul- 

76 



LIFE'S PROGRESS 

lets of the Hudson threw her cable out on the 
capstan of New York and left our still moist paper 
demonstration to dry itself at leisure. " Impossi- 
ble," cried Mirabeau, to his secretary. " Never 
name to me that blockhead of a word." Welling- 
ton once exclaimed: "Impossible. Is anything im- 
possible? Read the newspapers." Napoleon 
declared that impossible is not a French word. 
Here is a fragment of history: 

" It is February, 1492. A poor man, with gray 
hair, disheartened and dejected, is going out of the 
gate from the beautiful Alhambra, in Granada, on 
a mule. Ever since he was a boy he has been 
haunted with the idea that the earth is round. He 
has believed that the pieces of carved wood, picked 
up four hundred miles at sea, and the bodies of two 
men, unlike any other human beings known, found 
on the shores of Portugal, have drifted from un- 
known lands in the West. But his last hope of 
obtaining aid for a voyage of discovery has failed. 
King John of Portugal, under pretence of helping 
him, has secretly set out on an expedition of his 
own. His friends have abandoned him; he has 
begged bread; has drawn maps to keep himself 
from starving, and lost his wife; his friends have 

77 



LIFE'S PROGRESS 

called him crazy, and have forsaken him. The 
council of wise men, called by Ferdinand and Isa- 
bella, ridicule his theory of reaching the east by 
sailing west. " But the sun and moon are round," 
replies Columbus, " why not the earth? ,: ;c If the 
earth is a ball, what holds it up? " the wise men ask. 
" What holds the sun and moon up? " Columbus 
replies. 

A learned doctor asks, " How can men walk with 
their heads hanging down and their feet up, like 
flies on a ceiling? " " How can trees grow with 
their roots in the air? " " The water would run 
out of the ponds and we should fall off," says an- 
other. "The doctrine is contrary to the Bible, 
which says, ' The heavens are stretched out like 
a tent.' " " Of course it is flat; it is rank heresy 
to say it is round." 

He has waited seven long years. He has had his 
last interview hoping to get assistance from Fer- 
dinand and Isabella after they drive the Moors out 
of Spain. Isabella was almost persuaded, but finally 
refused. He is now old, his last hope has fled; 
the ambition of his life has failed. He hears a 
voice calling him. He looks back and sees an old 
friend pursuing him on a horse, and beckoning him 

78 



LIFE'S PROGRESS 

to come back. He saw Columbus turn away from 
the Alhambra, disheartened, and he hastens to the 
Queen and tells her what a great thing it would be, 
at a trifling expense, if what the sailor believes 
should prove true. " It shall be done," Isabella re- 
plies. " I will pledge my jewels to raise the money; 
call him back." Columbus turns back, and with 
him turns the world. 

Three frail vessels, little larger than fishing-boats, 
the " Santa Maria," the " Pinta," and the " Nina," 
set sail from Palos, August 3, 1492, for an unknown 
land, upon untried seas; the sailors would not vol- 
unteer, but were forced to go by the King. Friends 
ridiculed them for following a crazy man to cer- 
tain destruction, for they believed the sea beyond 
the Canaries was boiling-hot. " What if the earth 
is round? " they said, " and you sail down the other 
side, how can you get back again? Can ships sail 
up hill?" 

Only three days out, the " Pinta's " signal of 
distress is flying; she has broken her rudder. 
September 8 they discover a broken mast covered 
with seaweed floating in the sea. Terror seizes the 
sailors, but Columbus calms their fears with pic- 
tures of gold and precious stones of India. Septem- 

79 



LIFE'S PROGRESS 

ber 13, two hundred miles west of the Canaries, 
Columbus is horrified to find that the compass, his 
only guide, is failing him, and no longer points to 
the north star. No one has yet dreamed that the 
earth turns on its axis. The sailors are ready for 
mutiny, but Columbus tells them the north star 
is not exactly in the north. October 1, they are 
two thousand three hundred miles from land, 
though Columbus tells the sailors one thousand 
seven hundred. Columbus discovers a bush in the 
sea with berries on it, and soon they see birds and 
a piece of carved wood. At sunset, the crew kneel 
upon the deck and chant the vesper hymn. It is 
sixty-seven days since they left Palos, and they have 
sailed nearly three thousand miles, only changing 
their course once. At ten o'clock at night, they 
see a light ahead, but it vanishes. Two o'clock in 
the morning, October 12, Roderigo de Friana, on 
watch at the masthead of the " Pinta," shouts 
"Land! land! land!" The sailors are wild with 
joy, and throw themselves on their knees before 
Columbus, and ask forgiveness. They reach the 
shore, and the hero of the world's greatest expedi- 
tion unfolds the flag of Spain and takes posses- 
sion of the new world. Perhaps no greater honor 

80 



LIFE'S PROGRESS 

was ever paid man than Columbus received on his 
return to Ferdinand and Isabella. Yet, after his 
second visit to the land he discovered, he was taken 
back to Spain in chains, and finally died in poverty 
and neglect, while a pickle dealer of Seville, who 
had never risen above second-mate on a fishing 
vessel, Amerigo Vespucci, gave his name to the 
new world. Amerigo's name was put on an old 
chart or sketch to indicate the point of land where 
he landed, five years after Columbus discovered 
the country, and this crept into print by accident." 
The new worlds and great continents of life and 
character are all discovered like that. The world 
may fail in its recognition and reward, but a noble 
purpose and an iron will have ever accomplished 
their mission and been the greatest blessing to the 
world and of the most resplendent glory in heaven. 
There may appear sometimes in life a retrograde 
movement. The progress of the race is marked 
with fluctuations, sometimes strange and unac- 
countable. There has not been steady advance in 
one direction. There have been reverses and set- 
backs, but always overcome by the stronger force. 
Civilization after civilization has appeared and ad- 
vanced and disappeared. The march has been over 

81 



LIFE'S PROGRESS 

the graves of once prosperous and victorious na- 
tions. We are now building on the ruins of Assyria, 
Babylon, Nineveh, Egypt, and Rome, but this day 
is the best of all, and the march is forward. So in 
the life of the individual there are backward steps 
and seeming fatal disasters, but recovery was pos- 
sible and the darkness the beginning of dawn. That 
day multiplied the number of miles which had been 
lost by two, and the journey was again in new and 
beautiful country and toward the triumphal arch. 
Retrogression is an essential element of progress. 
It is repentance before salvation. It is a falling 
down sometimes in order to rise. There is a cer- 
tain preparation which precedes visible progress. 
A John the Baptist before the Christ. These are 
the hours for patience; the winter plays as much 
a part in the harvests of the world as does the sum- 
mer. There is forward movement, but not always 
recognized by careless observers. The silent growth 
and development of each day is preparatory to the 
sudden appearance of progress. There is work 
done in the darkness before the seed comes to the 
surface. Under the snow there is life and the con- 
servation of energy which makes for golden grana- 
ries, and loaded orchards, and blooming gardens, 

82 



LIFE'S PROGRESS 

and richly carpeted meadows. There is an unseen 
progress. The demands of vision should not give 
birth to doubt or discouragement. The best that 
is in us moves silently and slowly toward its goal. 
Unseen growth is nevertheless forward movement. 
There is also a wise forgetfulness in order to 
progress. There is an impulse forward in forgetting 
the things behind. Regrets, and failures, and ob- 
stacles are chains upon human feet. Break these 
shackles and change slowness into fleetness, doubt 
into faith, blindness into vision, discouragement 
into hope, weariness into strength. Forget mis- 
takes. Organize victories out of failures. The 
innocence of childhood is lost, but sadness will not 
restore it. The folly of youth is at last recognized, 
but " might have beens " never won victories. 
Even the losses of manhood are not overcome by 
brooding upon them. With earnest and enthusi- 
astic spirit face the future. On, on, is the watch- 
word! 

" Not backward so our glances bent, 
But onward to our father's home." 

The tragedy of life is in brightest beginning and 
splendid achievement stopped and wrecked on the 
way to everlasting triumph. Courage insufficient 

83 



LIFE'S PROGRESS 

and will frightened by hinderance become the cause 
of saddest failure. 

A little child living almost in the shadow of a 
mountain thought of its cloud-capped summit as if 
it belonged to heaven rather than to earth. 
" Mother/' he asked one day, " could anybody 
climb to the very top of the mountain? ,: The 
mother smiled. " Why, yes, dear," she answered. 
" All that one would need is to keep right on climb- 
ing. You can get almost anywhere by taking steps 
enough." The words lingered in the boy's mem- 
ory. Years after, he found himself destitute of the 
very rudiments of an education. Yet in his heart 
was a thirst for knowledge which made his igno- 
rance almost unendurable. And then into his mind 
flashed his mother's words, " You can get almost 
anywhere by taking steps enough." He brought 
a spelling-book and a rudimentary arithmetic, and 
began his upward climb. It took many " steps," 
and the way was not always smooth. Yet he reso- 
lutely kept on. Beginning his education after his 
twenty-first birthday, and amid countless discour- 
agements, to-day he holds an important professor- 
ship in one of the foremost universities of the coun- 
try. 

84 



LIFE'S PROGRESS 

Some years ago a vessel was wrecked on one of 
the South Sea Islands, and the owners were de- 
pendent upon an account of the shipwreck written 
in the dialect of the Indians to secure their insur- 
ance. But who could translate it? The paper was 
submitted to the professors of Harvard and Yale, 
but no one was equal to the task. There was a 
young blacksmith in the city of Worcester, Mass., 
however, who thought he could translate it. The 
dialect was not familiar to him, but, give him time 
to study the manuscript, and he could make a trans- 
lation, and he did. That young man was Elihu Bur- 
ritt, who learned his trade at his father's forge in 
Connecticut, and was then achieving success at 
" the flaming forge of life." By almost incredible 
self-denials and hardships, foregoing pleasure and 
ease, often reducing sleep and food to the lowest 
fraction, as economical of his time as he was obliged 
to be with his money, and with a will that never 
knew defeat, he "got there." A very successful 
business man says, "The things that count in the 
great struggle for prosperity are the old-fashioned 
qualities of honesty, a noble purpose, sobriety, in- 
dustry, economy, and push." Burritt Had these, 
and won. 

85 



LIFE'S PROGRESS 

" I count this thing to be grandly true, 
That a noble deed is a step toward God, 
Lifting the soul from the common clod 
To a purer air and a broader view. 
We rise by the things that are under our feet 
By what we have mastered of good or gain, 
By the pride deposed and the passion slain 
And the vanquished ills that we hourly meet." 

The wonders accomplished by the few reveal the 
supreme possibilities for all. The artist paints, and 
the poet sings, and the musician plays, and the 
orator thrills, but it is your achievement. It is the 
human voice, and the human brain, and the human 
skill at its best here to tell all men of the bright 
hope in the future; of the power needed to be real- 
ized in immortality and redemption. The eleva- 
tion of the one is the bright star of revelation for 
the many. The meaning of life is progress, growth, 
better, brighter, richer days. The way lies upward. 
The path is a mountainous one. The hinderances 
shall weaken and the burdens lighten. The best 
that is in man shall go toward its perfection. As 
character grows the faults and failures weaken. 
The very increase of the one means the decrease of 
the other. The weeds in the field are first cut and 
mangled by the hoe, but afterward the shadow of 

86 



LIFE'S PROGRESS 

the corn does the work, silently but more effect- 
ively. Growing stems of corn are death to weeds. 
This is a beneficent and encouraging factor in hu- 
man progress. Christian graces are never bought, 
but always grow. They are not articles of the fac- 
tory, but of the field. The Church does not keep 
them as its wares, and even prayer will not avail 
us in securing them. They are cultivated and 
grown according to the eternal laws of life. Faith, 
hope, and love are not carried to a man in the hands 
of answered prayer. The principles of life declare 
that time, and energy, and service, and suffering 
enter into every element of noble character. They 
may sprout quickly, but it is a long process and 
many a storm before the oak of highest manhood. 
There may be progress in pruning. Life may be 
increased by cutting off some worthless branches. 
There is a putting off which wisely accompanies 
the putting on. Death is thus followed by higher 
life, more beauty, better fruit. This work is suc- 
cessfully done only when accompanied by the rein- 
vigoration of the divine spirit. The new nature 
may be implanted, but it is a subject of nourish- 
ment and renewal. The energy of the spirit of God 
is its support The upper forces in the natural 

87 



LIFE'S PROGRESS 

world brought the best out of the seed in flower 
and fruit. So there is an agency above man which 
works in him and with him in bringing the very 
best out of his life. The moral light of the eternal 
Son seizes a man and lifts him up into greater 
stature and strength. Here is an ugly root with 
no form or comeliness, and with no apparent future 
of beauty or value. The imagination even fails to 
place worth in it. You carelessly trample upon it 
and it utters a cry heard somewhere, " Shame, 
shame, wait until the warmth of the springtime and 
all the forces of nature have been my benefactors 
and I will add fragrance, and beauty, and even joy, 
to the world." Out of the blackest and smallest 
root flowers are growing everywhere as a mockery 
to our wisdom and understanding. The crooked 
root spells out in the complicated twists of its un- 
attractiveness the combination of prophetic words, 
" It doth not appear what I shall be." 

A traveller among the mountains of Madeira set 
out for a distant summit, but was soon lost in a 
thick mist. He would have despaired, but his guide 
kept calling out from before, " Press on, master; 
press on; there's light beyond." When God calls 

88 



LIFE'S PROGRESS 

out, " Be strong; I am with you/' we need not 
fear. 

As the old Eastern proverb has it, " With time 
and patience the mulberry leaf becomes satin." 
Years ago, Mr. Beecher preached to his young 
people after this manner: " O impatient ones, did 
the leaves say nothing to you as you came hither 
to-day? They were not created this spring, but 
months ago. At the bottom of every leaf-stem is 
a cradle, and in it is an infant germ; and the winds 
will rock it, and the birds will sing to it all sum- 
mer long, and next season it will unfold. So God 
is working for you and carrying forward to perfect 
development all the processes of your lives." And 
as if he had fitted it on to the thought, George Mac- 
Donald said, " God can afford to wait; why cannot 
we, since we have Him to fall back upon? " 

In the new military tactics there is a manoeuvre, 
" advancing by rushes." In this the soldiers rush 
forward for a short distance and then drop to the 
ground, repeating this course until the charge is 
ended. The manoeuvre is supposed to give the 
men respite from the fierceness of the enemy's fire. 
So when the great charge toward San Juan's 
heights began, the order was given, " Advance by 

89 



LIFE'S PROGRESS 

rushes/' and for a part of the distance was exe- 
cuted. But the Spaniards seemed to secure 
the range of the Americans, halting as well as 
advancing, and our losses were constantly growing 
greater. Half-way up the hill a commander gave 
the order for another rush. The bugler, seeing the 
fearful devastation that was being wrought in our 
ranks by the Spanish fire, sounded instead, the 
" long charge." On the instant the soldiers leaped 
to their feet and began that unremitting advance 
toward the enemy's lines that has become historic 
and unsurpassed in the annals of great assaults. 

Life is the " long charge," and uphill, but our 
commander is the triumphant victor. 

go 



A Christian man's heart is laid in the loom of time to a 
pattern which he does not see, but God does ; and his heart 
is a shuttle. On one side of the loom is sorrow and on the 
other is joy, and the shuttle, struck alternately by each, flies 
back and forth carrying the thread which is white or black 
as the pattern needs. And in the end, when God shall lift 
up the finished garment and all its changing hues shall 
glance out it will then appear that the deep and dark colors 
were as needful to beauty as the bright and high colors. — 
Beecher. 

That blessed mood 
In which the burden of the mystery, in which the heavy and 

weary weight 
Of all this unintelligible world, is lightened. 

— Wordsworth. 

God moves in a mysterious way 

His wonders to perform ; 
He plants His footsteps on the sea 

And rides upon the storm. — Cowper. 

Behind a frowning Providence 

He hides a shining face. — Cowper. 



91 



IV 
LIFE'S MYSTERY 

The other name for life is mystery. Life is only a 
convenient term for a mysterious something, never 
defined, nor analyzed, nor understood. We speak 
the familiar word with an appearance of wisdom, 
but it is clouded with densest darkness and igno- 
rance. Even the separate events of our earthly 
existence are clothed with the garments of unan- 
swered query, " why " — " what " — " when " — and 
only the echo comes back. Frequently the divine 
commands are issued without explanation and be- 
yond the possibility of human comprehension. The 
pathway is through night, and forest, and peril. 
When that old-time hero of faith and obedience re- 
ceived the strange and startling order from heaven 
to leave his home and possessions and friends and 
journey to a- country of which he did not know, 
but must discover and adopt as his own, he began 
that famous career which reached its climax of mys- 

92 



LIFE'S MYSTERY 

tery and loyalty on the mountain-side when he laid 
his only son on the altar of sacrifice and learned, 
best of any man, the meaning of the Father's rela- 
tion to the atonement on Calvary. How it must 
have stunned his heart and turned the last dark 
hair snow-white to hear the familiar voice — 
" Abraham." He instantly replied, " Here I am." 
Then strange, overwhelming demand! God said: 
" Take thy son, thy only son Isaac, whom thou 
lovest, and get thee into the land of Moriah and 
offer him there as a burnt offering." When he re- 
covered from the first shock, preparation was made 
and the journey began. No voice answered the 
oft-repeated questions in the deeps of his soul, but 
the mystery thickened and closed in upon him as 
he lovingly pressed his boy's hand and led him 
through the darkness. The heart of the one was as 
heroic as that of the other. When the faithful son 
made himself a willing sacrifice, without any light 
from human reason, he placed one of the most har- 
monious notes in the music of the world's redemp- 
tion. 

The kingliest attitude of man is the acceptance 
of mystery with unconditioned obedience. Even 
the Son of God never rose higher than when He 

93 



LIFE'S MYSTERY 

said: " Let the cup pass." " Nevertheless not my 
will." This element of mystery is universal, and en- 
circles every life. It is necessary because of the 
tangled intricacies of life and the narrow range of 
human vision and the preeminence, but not prom- 
inence, of the spiritual. There are moments in life 
when the sentences are all ended with interroga- 
tion-points. Why did the business come to bank- 
ruptcy and compel the banishment of hope and 
shatter the plans of life into atoms? Honesty, and 
sacrifice, and industry were partners in the concern, 
and they were unable to save it from wreck. Why 
did this beautiful child die when there are hundreds 
of orphans and cripples who live as burdens to 
themselves and to others? Why was this holiest 
purpose of a human heart thwarted? Why was that 
sublime sacrifice destroyed in the bud? Why is sin 
triumphant and righteousness ever defeated? There 
is no word in the vocabulary so full of life atid stub- 
bornness as the familiar " why." O unexplorable 
and crushing mystery of every-day life. A single 
glance at the features of any company of people 
reveals the fact that each countenance carries a hid- 
den mystery. The child in its mother's arms, the 
old man on his staff, the young man and maiden, 

94 



LIFE'S MYSTERY 

the man and woman on the hilltop, all are marked 
with the puzzling problems of life. What broken 
hearts, what concealed experiences, what forced 
smiles, what protestations of joy which tell too 
much, — happy, but the heart is the home of grief, 
and burning grief. Tears do not fall, but they are, 
nevertheless, increasing in the hidden receptacle, 
and the increase is in bitterness. Every man carries 
his own secret and own mystery. His life goes on 
in dreaming, and thinking, and scheming, and plan- 
ning, and effort for perfection, and the dawning of 
the clearer day is still delayed. He is a mystery to 
himself and a mystery to others. At one time his 
acquaintances would not believe that it was ever 
possible for the rich man to become poor. His 
numbers were thousands and millions. It was a 
veritable fortress; even God's lightning and thun- 
der seemed helpless before it. He sat in his security 
and gloated over his enormous fortune and abso- 
lute independence. He rejoices in the fact that 
friends flatter and serve him and beggars crouch 
before him, while the world apparently revolves 
about his life as the centre. Strange, mysterious 
world; his fortress is made of paper; his strength 
is weakness; his riches are like a dewdrop; it reflects 

95 



LIFE'S MYSTERY 

a world, but a single gust of opposing wind scatters 
it forever. The man of giant-like proportions and 
strength, who never knew feebleness, stands in the 
pride and security of his magnificent health and 
power of endurance; erect, energetic, lithe, and an 
overabundance of life and cheer, but he lives in a 
world which knows transformation great enough 
to make that elephantine man subject of a child's 
assistance. If no other forces enter in to destroy 
the impregnable rock of his mighty strength, time 
is sufficient, and thrusts the cane in his hand and 
the glasses upon his eye, and weakness into every 
drop of blood which moves slowly through vein 
and artery. The years often create anxiety to 
" shuffle off this mortal coil." What a startling 
change! We have known of men of greatest in- 
tellect and most critical judgment unable to give 
a rational decision upon any subject. Not able to 
write their own names or read their own letters. 
Reason is godlike, but mystery of mysteries, the 
great intellect is the subject of ravages sufficient to 
destroy even the shadow of its former po^er. It 
is a victorious hour and an epoch-making time 
when a man discovers his true condition, and the 
necessity of mystery in life. He is then able to take 

96 



LIFE'S MYSTERY 

his bearings and go on and not waste all of his time 
in unravelling knotty problems and only increasing 
the tangle. 

In the Yankee thread exhibit they show you a 
machine whose work is enumerated as follows: It 
reels thread on to little wooden spools at the rate 
of 250 dozen in a day of ten hours, each spool being 
wrapped with 200 yards of thread. It moves and 
acts like a sentient being. Eight hoppers are filled 
with little wooden spools, and the machine starts. 
It picks a spool out of a hopper, adjusts it on a 
spindle, reels out 200 yards of thread, cuts it, inserts 
the end in a nick in the spool that it makes, dumps 
the finished spool and takes a new one, and repeats 
this performance all day, in less time than it takes 
to write about it. The spools are then taken to an- 
other little machine that rushes them through a 
contrivance which pastes a label on them that it 
chops out, pitches the spool into a box, and hurries 
along in a mad race with the machine reeling the 
thread. 

The human reason has not the power of the ma- 
chine to spool the threads of life. It twists and 
knots and tangles a few inches of time. It is only 
in the loom of God and under the divine hand that 

97 



LIFE'S MYSTERY 

these threads are ever unsnarled and woven into 
a fabric of beauty. Herein is the creation of mys- 
tery; human vision cannot follow the single thread. 
No event stands out distinct and alone. They 
cross, and recross, and fasten themselves to each 
other. The ramifications are in the pattern, but 
the pattern is not in the eye. All the events of life 
are linked together as a chain. After years of hid- 
ing, a single word will draw the event of boyhood 
days into the light as vividly as when it first oc- 
curred. The sound of a voice, the dream of a night, 
the color of a leaf, the fragrance of a flower, draws 
a whole train of circumstances into view. Life is 
an involved drama. It is a composition of forces; 
it is a combination of incidents. There are more 
semi-colons than full-stops. The judgment should 
be reserved for integers and not fractions. The 
process is not the result. He who jumps at con- 
clusions skips contentment and happiness. Rea- 
son and faith clasp hands and go, step by step, until 
they echo the Voice eternal, " It is finished." 
Everything in life has some meaning and emphasis 
and relation. Even failures and mistakes enter into 
the eternal harmony. The grand total of human life 
includes the laborer, and sufferer, and cripple, and 

98 



LIFE'S MYSTERY 

pauper, and helpless babe, as well as the rich, and 
strong, and royal. Every man and every thing 
enters into the great mystery. Life itself, wherever 
it is found, is an ever evolving and increasing mys- 
tery. The path is often through a tunnel as dark 
as night, but onward movement brings the traveller 
out at last into the clear sunlight of heaven. 
Blessed is the man who tunnels the mountain and 
abides the darkness. Accident seemingly plays a 
large part in human experience, but the most trivial 
events come to be written in italics in the story of 
life. An unexpected and momentary meeting 
brought two hearts together and bound them with 
the bonds of holy matrimony. How much was 
linked to how little! They called it chance, acci- 
dent, happening, but it was an event of tremendous 
import. All the rest of earthly existence depended 
upon it. The acorn has in it no greater mystery 
than a single glance of the eye, or move of the 
hand, or an additional step of the foot. Many of 
the best things come to a man as a surprise and 
with no prophecy in them. Many of the greatest 
burdens might have been removed by the slightest 
effort. A letter is delayed and the fortune is lost, 
and the future is dark. But in all our blindness, be- 

99 



LIFE'S MYSTERY 

cause of this necessary intricacy, and the im- 
portance of apparent trifles, there is a gospel of 
providence. The gospel is larger than our con- 
ception. It is not a theory of books. It is in 
the battle, and the toil, and the sacrifice, and 
the daily service. There can be no denial of 
the goodness of providence in the centre of 
all mystery if the pages of history do not end 
with a period, if the years and centuries are all 
fastened together in the divine plan. We are vexed 
and tormented by single instances. We are en- 
couraged and fortified by the union of all events. 
The man who opens the volume of history and 
reads wisely and continuously makes the supreme 
discovery of the human heart that God lives, and 
every mystery to man is a valuable and necessary 
part of the divine programme. This is a fact to be 
realized spiritually rather than to be admitted in- 
tellectually. If it is in the soul of man no storm 
can toss it and no billow cover it. There may be 
momentary agitation, but still the music goes on 
in that heavenly strain, " All things work together 
for good to them that love God." That is like the 
magnificent harmonies of a Beethoven which are 
the combination and interlacing of single notes. 

100 



LIFE'S MYSTERY 

They are complicated now, but their individuality 
is preserved in the whole. Every grass-blade and 
hidden violet is as much a part of the landscape, 
and shares in its beauty, as the central figure or huge 
mountain. There is an empire of love, and a sceptre 
of omnipotence, and an immovable throne in the 
darkest and deepest mysteries and most irrecon- 
cilable providences. " Justice and righteousness 
are the foundation of that throne." The cloud is 
only dark on one side, — the lower side. Behind 
every cloud the sun still shines. The darkest day 
has its light. The most mysterious providence has 
a flood of light on the upper and heavenward side. 
One of the most delightful and soul-elevating oc- 
cupations is to watch the unfolding of the divine 
programme like the mountain view of the clouds 
when scattered and swept from the earth's surface 
while the beauty and wonder of the landscape is 
revealed. The insect's home must be broken up in 
order that the fields may wave with their golden 
harvests. The insect could not understand it, but 
it was life rather than death. 

Mystery is another name for salvation. Our 
plans are not unlikely to be essential to the per- 
petuity and prosperity of our world. There are 

IOI 



LIFE'S MYSTERY 

higher laws than those which we have committed 
to memory. " On one occasion/' says Carlo Cec- 
carelli, " when Verdi was engaged on his master- 
piece ' II Trovatore/ he stopped short at the pas- 
sage of the Miserere, being at a loss to combine 
notes of sufficient sadness and pathos to express the 
grief of the prisoner Manrico. Sitting at his piano 
in the deep silence of the winter night his imagina- 
tion wandered back to the stormy days of his youth, 
endeavoring to extract from the past a plaint and 
groan like those which escaped from his troubled 
breast when, forsaken by the world, he saw himself 
constrained to smother the flame of his rising 
genius. All was vain! One day at Milan he was 
called unexpectedly to the bedside of a dying friend, 
one of the few who had remained faithful to him 
alike in adversity and prosperity. Verdi, at the 
sight of his dying friend, felt a lump rise in his 
throat. He wanted to weep, but so great was the 
intensity of his sorrow that not a tear would come 
to the relief of his anguish. This state could not 
last. He must give vent to his grief. In an adjoin- 
ing room stood a piano. Under one of those sud- 
den impulses to which men of genius are frequently 
subject he sat down at the instrument and there 

102 



LIFE'S MYSTERY 

and then improvised that sublime Miserere of the 
' Trovatore.' The musician had wept. Those of 
the company who were not already kneeling in the 
presence of the angel of death, at the sound of those 
pathetic notes which seemed like the last sobs of 
a departing spirit, prostrated themselves, deeply 
affected, at the feet of the genius of musical art." 
Strange that a tear should be the supreme neces- 
sity in order that a great master might do his best. 
The secret of Governor Seymour's splendid charac- 
ter and brilliant career is revealed in his own words: 
" If I were to wipe out twenty acts, what should 
they be? Should it be my burdens, my foolish acts 
(for I suppose all do foolish acts occasionally), my 
grievances? No; for, after all, these are the very 
things by which I have profited. So I finally con- 
cluded I should expunge, instead of my mistakes, 
my triumphs. I could not afford to dismiss the 
pang of mortification or refinement of sorrow, I 
needed them, every one. The very pivotal differ- 
ence by which we rise or fall turns upon the way 
in which we grapple with our faults. All my ac- 
quaintance with the eminent men of the country 
has taught me that the way to greatness is found 
in fearless self-examination." 

103 



LIFE'S MYSTERY 

In this mysterious and yet providential world, 
failures, mistakes, poverty, loss, sickness, sorrow, 
and their kind, may be messengers of greatest bless- 
ing. How could such a man as John Milton under- 
stand the tangles of his life from that midnight hour 
in his bleak garret when the vision rose before him 
of the power to write a poem which the world would 
not willingly let die to the hour when the blind poet 
whispered in death, " Still guides the heavenly 
vision." He must live the life heroic before he could 
write a heroic poem, and through unceasing toil, 
through night and day, he began the battle, and 
even fought in the wars of his country with such 
self-abandon that when a brutal soldier lifted his 
sword above him and shouted, " I have power to 
kill you," the scholar replied, " and I have power 
to be killed and to despise my murderer." He be- 
came the target for persecution and even lost his 
human sight before he could write " Paradise Lost." 
He made his heroic poem, and the world never let 
it die, but, Oh, what a life of mystery in order to 
the fruitage! Our confusion is the inevitable re- 
sult of passing judgment upon controlling forces 
of providence by seeing only isolated and solitary 

events. Blindness denies the relation of the par- 

104 



LIFE'S MYSTERY 

ticular to the universal, the temporary to the eter- 
nal, the grain of sand to the mountain, and the 
mountain to the sea ; the drop of water to the 
ocean, and the ocean to stream, and lake, and cloud. 
A man may come so near to the signboard that he 
fails to see the landscape, or even to read the let- 
ters in the direction. Anything may be brought so 
near to the eye as to render sight impossible. Great 
breadths of human history must be seen so that 
confusion may disappear while order, and law, and 
harmony are revealed. Any single event may 
sound like discord, but when it is seized by higher 
laws and made a part of the great plan it is one of 
the sweetest notes in the music of earth. There is 
an unanswerable conundrum at every step of the 
journey. The surface and momentary view reveals 
only tangle and disorder in the administration of 
things, and sometimes forces the conclusion that 
there is no government in the affairs of men. 
Chance is the only god and the only law. There is 
disturbance everywhere. The conscientious man 
comes to have poverty instead of riches, and the 
strong man who scrambles and fights against rights 
is the victor. Policy is crowned in a single day, 
and principle is slain. Politics overrides statesman- 

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LIFE'S MYSTERY 

ship. Goodness is oftentimes mocked and jeered 
at by the apparently victorious evil. The gambler 
shouts at the ragged, toiling crowd, " Here is the 
only law; here is a fortune in a moment. Turn the 
wheel; it is the symbol of all life." 

But the narrowness of human vision is the cause 
of failure to understand. Our limited faculties are 
not capable of solving all the dark riddles of life. 
Finiteness demands mystery. There is something 
beyond us, and above us, and below us, always and 
everywhere. We live within narrow lines. The 
outside of the circle is necessarily unknown. Multi- 
ply your capacity by ten and you will see more, but 
there is still more unseen and unknown. Enter 
into companionship with the archangel and see 
what he sees, and know what he knows. There is 
the same call for faith. The finite never saw what 
the infinite government and plan of God have in 
them. Our world has a horizon. God's eye sweeps 
the universe in a single glance. We speak very 
wisely about God the Father, and Christ the Son, 
and the Divine Spirit. How little we can know of 
their separate existence, or united substance. He 
who walks upon the clouds and has the light for 

His garments is unseen by mortal eye. We speak 

106 



LIFE'S MYSTERY 

boldly the great words Omnipotence, Omnipres- 
ence, Omniscience, and have a large vocabulary, 
but no dictionary. Who can understand the in- 
carnation of Christ or the work of the Holy Spirit? 
It is beyond human reason, and must ever be 
clothed with mystery. Our understanding fails 
when we attempt to fathom the deep things of re- 
ligion and life. Our knowledge is often spoken of 
as if it were complete, but it is very dim and un- 
satisfactory. We talk about God, and write about 
Him, and the child lisps His name almost the first 
word, but all this is like a picture of the Yellow- 
stone canon or Yosemite peaks compared with 
the inspiration of standing in the centre of their 
glory and grandeur. We speak of Christ and the 
Holy Spirit as if we possessed even the faintest un- 
derstanding of their love, and service, and sacrifice, 
and devotion, and power. What a mystery en- 
velops the manger cradle, and the carpenter shop, 
and the bloody sweat, and the agony of Calvary. 
Who can understand that a carpenter could save a 
world? Impossible! The effect is greater than 
such a cause. True, when between the four points 

of human vision, but divinity and eternity and 

107 



LIFE'S MYSTERY 

heaven are in it. So it is in all of God's relation to 
human life. 

There was a German stone-cutter who was at 
work simply for his board, knowing that he would 
starve or beg unless he did that. The master soon 
discovered that he was a very fine workman, and 
he brought him the most difficult part that was 
being prepared for the building. One block of 
stone after another came with the pencilling on it. 
The workman hewed to the line always faithfully 
and polished it to the very best advantage. When 
the building was completed and they went out to 
look at the building, the other workmen were all 
standing around and admiring it, but the German 
stone-cutter wept for joy, and when he was asked 
why he wept, he said: " I did not know the design: 
I could not tell all that the master intended; but 
as I look at the beautiful vine on that beautiful 
front I am glad that I did the very best I could." 
God's work with us is like the man of genius with 
the result of his inspiration and invention before 
the blind eyes of his fellow men. 

One hundred years ago Oliver Evans, the in- 
ventor, predicted that the time would come when 
the high-pressure locomotive would enable people 

108 



LIFE'S MYSTERY 

who had breakfasted in Washington to take supper 
in New York, over two hundred miles distant. Of 
course everybody laughed at Evans's visionary 
schemes, but it is a feat accomplished now. 

George Stephenson, before a committee of the 
House of Commons, in 1825, presented a striking 
picture of genius badgered by ignorance and self- 
conceit which saw visionary dangers in his proposed 
steam railway. " I was subjected," says the great 
engineer, " to the cross-examination of eight or 
ten barristers, purposely, as far as possible, to be- 
wilder me. Some members of the committee asked 
me if I was a foreigner, and another hinted that I 
was mad. But I put up with every rebufif, and went 
on with my plans, determined not to be put down." 
The committee asked him " whether, if the engine 
were upset, going at nine miles an hour, the cargo 
would upset." One of the committee put the fol- 
lowing question: " Suppose, now, one of these en- 
gines to be going along a railroad at a rate of nine 
or ten miles an hour, and that a cow were to stray 
upon the line, and get in the way of the engine; 
would not that, think you, be a very awkward cir- 
cumstance? " " Yes," replied the engineer, with 

a twinkle in his eye, " very awkward — for the 

109 



LIFE'S MYSTERY 

cow!" Another asked if animals might not be 
frightened by the engine passing at night, especially 
by the glare of the red-hot chimney? " But how 
would they know that it was not painted? " said 
Stephenson, with quick wit. The views of learned 
men at that day are entertaining. The Quarterly 
Review observed: "What can be more palpably 
absurd and ridiculous than the prospect held out 
of locomotives travelling twice as fast as stage- 
coaches! We would as soon expect the people of 
Woolwich to suffer themselves to be fired off upon 
one of Congreve's richochet rockets/' " There 
would be no further use for horses," said a third; 
and " Country inns would be ruined," lamented a 
fourth. Ashley Cooper, the eminent surgeon, a 
stately old gentleman, was inflexible in opposition. 
" Your scheme is preposterous in the extreme. 
Then look at the recklessness of your proceedings! 
You are proposing to cut up our estates in all di- 
rections for the purpose of making an unnecessary 
road. Why, gentlemen, if this sort of thing be per- 
mitted to go on, you will, in a very few years, de- 
stroy the noblesse! " But railroads have prevailed, 
Sir Ashley Cooper, and the cow to the contrary not- 
withstanding. 

no 



LIFE'S MYSTERY 

Open the eyes of thy soul to behold the best 
things from the master's hand. Believe that every 
mystery carries blessing from heaven. Face the 
darkness with patience and confidence and obedi- 
ence. Wait, O thou courageous and self-sacrific- 
ing soul, wait, and before the knife falls there will 
be a rustle among the dead leaves of the bushes and 
God will provide another lamb. In viewing the 
passing incidents inside of the great principles of 
human history we are driven into perplexity, and 
after the first questioning and murmur, to press 
the finger to the lips and be dumb. In the tragical 
silence the heart hears voices which never awaken 
a sound in the ear. The ray of light flashes out in 
the darkness through the door ajar, and we catch 
a glimpse of the fireside and brightness of the 
father's house, even though the world is cold and 
dark. We wonder, in our silence, if there is not a 
tender and pitiful Omnipotence which works in 
such great circumferences that all we see is only a 
straight line, but in the mighty sweep of His circle 
the straight line finds its curve and its infinite mean- 
ing and eternal existence. In its days and years 
life is strange and mysterious, but there is an ex- 
planation in the eternal. Time is a mighty factor, 

in 



LIFE'S MYSTERY 

and reveals it power even in the passing moments. 
A few hours change the whole scene; despair is 
often only momentary. There is no bread in the 
pantry and no fire on the hearth. There are pangs 
of poverty and winds of winter declaring boldly 
and unmistakably that there is no higher law above 
this awful tragedy of life. Suddenly the door opens; 
new friends appear; wants are supplied; employ- 
ment is furnished; education is offered; the skele- 
ton is transformed into an angel. Snowflakes are 
changed into flowers; icicles into fuel, and the 
howling winds into heaven's orchestra. Promises 
are now realities, and God still lives. Tears and 
narrow vision had temporarily shut out all the 
higher forces and despair, like a fog, hid every star 
in the sky, but at last, upon the winds of eternal 
gratitude, heaven receives the message, " How poor 
1 would have been but for the sanctified poverty 
and suffering." William H. Prescott passed out 
of the college dining-hall, during his junior year, 
and turned his head to learn the cause of a dis- 
turbance, when he was struck in the eye by some 
missile which destroyed the sight. After his long 
illness he returned to college with higher ambitions 
and nobler ideals than before. Then the other eye 

112 



LIFE'S MYSTERY 

became inflamed, and, in sympathy, began to fail. 
For weeks he was compelled to remain in a dark 
room. In this sad condition he walked hundreds 
of miles from corner to corner, and side to side, 
thrusting out his elbows so as to avoid striking the 
wall. In many places the plaster was broken by the 
constant hammer from his elbows. He had chosen 
law for his profession, but now was compelled to 
abandon it. By some unknown force he was pushed 
into the study of history, the last choice a man 
would naturally make who was blind. He at once 
set about the training of his memory, and, at last, 
he could correct and retain in his mind sixty pages 
of printed matter, and then dictate it to his 
amanuensis. He produced his famous " History 
of Ferdinand and Isabella/' " The Conquest of 
Mexico," and the " Conquest of Peru." When he 
could use his fast-failing eye only one hour a day 
he prepared his " History of Philip Second." He 
afterward wrote some of the world's best pages 
without seeing a word of the writing, but by push- 
ing his hand along the lines of a wooden frame. 
The greatest calamity came to his life, but in the 
mystery of providence gave him fame and power 
beyond his fellow men. His sublime patience 

113 



LIFE'S MYSTERY 

waited upon God's revelation. To-morrow was a 
part of his life as well as to-day. There is a silent, 
irresistible force at work through all the apparently 
separate events of life. That mighty factor creates 
surprise by making gardens out of deserts, and joys 
out of sorrows, and gain out of loss, and life out of 
death, — yes, and a crown out of a cross. This is 
the unknown quantity. What a subtle, yet power- 
ful, element! Everything is related as consequence 
and antecedents. No event begins and ends in 
itself. This demands new thoughts, and explana- 
tions, and expectations. Because of this Lazarus 
will thank God that he lay at the rich man's gate. 
Daniel will rejoice that he entered the lion's den. 
Joseph will find no fault with the pit. Bartimeus 
will offer praise for blindness. Paul will not com- 
plain at the thorn in his flesh. Why was John 
Knox a galley slave? Why was John Bunyan in 
Bedford Jail? Why was Robert Hall a confirmed 
invalid? Why was Martin Luther driven about by 
persecution? It is all answered in the light of the 
upper world. Patience will wait for its answer. 
Faith will expect it and obedience will never falter. 
Wherever the explanation is not found here there 
will be the dawning of a new and brighter day. As 

H4 



LIFE'S MYSTERY 

the years of life advance man begins to touch the 
meaning of the divine expression that " a thousand 
years is as one day." Time comes to be less and 
the eternal future greater. The future is beyond 
vision and grasp, and in this is at once the charm 
and mystery of life. In the impatience to know and 
understand this, mystery mocks us and vexes us 
with the cry " not now." " Sometime, somewhere, 
we'll understand." " Now w T e know in part, but 
then shall we know even as also we are known." 
The mists are to be rolled away and the continuity 
and beauty of life's landscape are to be revealed. 
The examiner asked the child in the institution for 
the deaf and dumb, who made the world, and in the 
sign language, she instantly replied: " In the be- 
ginning God created the heavens and earth." Sur- 
prised at her answer, he asked her again what 
Christ came for. She quickly replied: "This is a 
faithful saying and worthy of all acceptation, that 
Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners." 
He looked at her in amazement and then pro- 
pounded the hardest of his questions, " Why did 
God make you deaf and dumb and give other 
people hearing and speech? " Without a moment's 
hesitation she moved her little fingers to make the 

115 



LIFE'S MYSTERY 

sentence, " Even so, Father, for so it seemeth good 
in Thy sight." What a magnificent reply to the 
solemn mystery of her life! That is the ideal. In 
that is the only comfort and joy. In that is Chris- 
tian submission. It is a wise confidence. In that 
is the highest obedience, the obedience of a sur- 
rendered will. In this mysterious life of ours there 
is only one who can answer the riddle, or solve the 
problem, or interpret the mystery. His name shall 
be called " Jesus." The greatest difficulty in the 
human soul is the fact of sin. It frightens, and 
haunts, and condemns every member of the race. 
The Christ alone reveals its nature and pardons 
its offences. Take it and its family up to the cross 
and say, " Oh, Son of God, I cannot understand 
Thee, but remember me when Thou comest into 
Thy Kingdom," and the graciousness of His an- 
swer will suddenly transform mystery into eternal 
day. 

116 



A man ought to carry himself in the world, as an orange- 
tree would if it could walk up and down in the garden , 
swinging perfume from every little censor it holds up to the 
air. — Beecher. 

The reforms of this country have been chiefly due to the 
presence and influence of Shaftsbury. — On the Statue of 
Shaftsbury. 

// is certain that either wise bearing or ignorant courage 
is caught as men take diseases ', one of another ; therefore, let 
me take heed of their company. — Shakespeare. 

Beyond all wealth, honor, or even health is the attachment 
we form to noble souls because to become one with the good, 
generous, and true is to become in a measure good, generous, 
and true ourselves. — Thomas Arnold. 



117 



V 
LIFE'S INFLUENCE 

There is a biography in sacred history which 
declares that the shadow of a man had healing 
power. Every man carries a shadow with him 
which has in it health or disease, life or death, joy 
or sorrow, good or evil. " No man liveth unto him- 
self/' 

Man's very nature refuses isolation in life. There 
is no such thing as separation from the life of the 
world; even the darkness of the cave or the walls of 
a monastery are false barriers to man's secret and 
sacred relation to man. Life itself is a shipwreck 
unless Crusoe finds his man Friday whom he can 
influence and elevate. The island is simply a grave 
without the other man. Every life was intended to 
be the centre and source of influence, and no one 
can destroy that eternal design. It is a part of life. 
Next to blood, it is the greatest factor in human 

118 



LIFE'S INFLUENCE 

existence and destiny, second only to the blood of 
Christ is his example and irresistible influence. 

Every man is the fountainhead of new forces. He 
is the author of good or bad in human history. He 
is the heir of all the past, and he is one of the crea- 
tors of all the future, by the tremendous force of 
influence over man. It touches the individual at 
every point, and makes or mars character. There 
is no exception to this striking rule. The lowest 
and weakest man in the earth exerts his influence, 
and generations yet unborn will be lifted nearer to 
God or thrust further away from Him by it. This 
is some of the certain, but deepest, human philos- 
ophy, and one of the most vital elements in relig- 
ion. Life means repetition in other lives, — grasp- 
ing them with a relentless and deathless grip, 
moulding and fashioning them after its kind. Dis- 
position, tendency, character, are being repeated in 
every life within this great circle of influence. 

Two people cannot live together in intimacy 
without each becoming somewhat as the other. 
Even if it be a business relation, the years will 
furnish a startling illustration of this truth. Even 
weakness leaves influence upon strength. 

This seems a threadbare and worn-out statement. 

119 



LIFE'S INFLUENCE 

It has been written and spoken for all men a thou- 
sand times, and yet no one has ever fathomed its 
depths or really comprehended it. His vision has 
only swept around a small segment of the circle. 
Imagination is our deceiver and declares that we 
can influence others by what we say. The truth is 
rather that we influence others only by what we are. 
The true self is the secret of power. Hypocrisy 
speaks its greatest falsehood right here. 

There are eyes of keener sight than those which 
behold the natural world. They are the eyes of the 
soul, and the revelators of character. Even a child 
sees further than the precepts which fall from the 
lip or the evident desire on the part of the speaker 
that those who hear him should think him to be 
better than he really is. Underneath the surface are 
the real sources of influence, and from thence are 
the impulses of life. Outward appearance is shal- 
low and thin, and sometimes even a window. In- 
fluence comes from reality, and not sham. The ex- 
ternal life has not wrought out the influence for 
good, but the real man's baseness has secured the 
opposite effect. 

A man may never have professed Christianity, 
and yet is in possession of real Christ-like character, 

120 



LIFE'S INFLUENCE 

which is the golden sceptre in the hand of a king. 
Time and eternity are both natural heirs of his life. 

It is not a creed that makes an orthodox Chris- 
tian, or a noble man. It is reality. It is what the 
soul of life is. It is the heart and substance of the 
man. What a man is, is the sun from which radiates 
the warmth and life for other lives, or the cold or 
frozen orb from which arises death and darkness 
for other men. 

In that charming work of Mr. Ruskin, " Ethics 
of the Dust," he points out that crystals have two 
qualities which go to make up their value. One is 
their shape, and the other is their purity. The shape 
is determined by the crystal's surroundings, the 
quick or slow process of cooling, or outward pres- 
sure. " But," he says, " it seems as if it had in itself 
the power of rejecting impurity if it has crystalline 
life enough. Here is a crystal of quartz, well 
shaped in its way, but it seems to have been languid 
and sick at heart; and some milky substance has 
got into it, and mixed itself up with it, all through. 
It makes the quartz quite yellow, if you hold it up 
to the light, and milky blue on the surface. Here 
is another, broken out of all traceable shape, but as 
pure as a mountain spring. I like this one best. 

121 



LIFE'S INFLUENCE 

Purity is in most cases a prior, if not a nobler, virtue. 
The crystal must be either dirty or clean. So it is 
with one's hands and with one's heart — only you 
can wash your hands without changing them, but 
not hearts, nor crystals." 

We have the influence and power which we in- 
tend, and then we have the other which we fail to 
recognize. All life is composed of this mixture of 
intentional and unintentional influence. It is a vast 
conglomeration of greatest force, but none the less 
real. All men are surcharged with this power and 
susceptible to its effect upon themselves from 
others. 

One of the greatest perils of the present ener- 
getic and enterprising day is that men will forget 
the secret silent movements of the soul of life, and 
the unconscious influence they are exerting. We 
overestimate planned activity. We underestimate 
the involuntary forces of life. This influence, de- 
rived from what a man actually is, from reality, is 
a most potent factor in his relation to others, and 
their relation to him. Whether self is hidden or 
revealed, the conscience acts as a detective. 
A rose will make itself known, and a foul, offensive 
odor will reveal itself, hide them as you will. The 

122 



LIFE'S INFLUENCE 

ruling and dominant characteristics and faculties 
in human nature are existing in a certain independ- 
ence of the will A fetid odor can be imprisoned 
more easily than evil in the soul. 

We cannot give explanation or formulate a the- 
ory of the fact, but the presence of one individual 
seems to chill while that of another warms. One 
inspires you, while the other exhausts you. Un- 
consciousness of real disposition or even best of 
intent does not alter this result. A selfish soul in 
royal garments has ultimately the same effect as 
when dressed in rags. The hypocrisy which clothes 
and attempts deceit may be only a good conductor 
of evil influence. This is the difference between 
wood and iron in the same atmosphere. 

The selfishness in the heart blinds the eyes to the 
baneful result of its presence. It simply opens the 
pores and draws quietly on all it can gather from 
others, and thus weakness is discovered, but often- 
times the real cause unknown. 

A certain disposition may not intend its influ- 
ence, and repudiates the idea that " I did that," 
" I make any one unhappy? " " I disclaim that." 
" I did not do a thing." 

It is an emphatic denial, but nevertheless a pro- 

123 



LIFE'S INFLUENCE 

duction of ill feeling, and evil is the result where- 
ever they go. A man may poison the air with jeal- 
ousy, hatred, envy, malice, and even vengeance, and 
yet never have uttered a sentence. Move, attitude, 
appearance of scorn or disgust, are enough. The 
sorrowful heart of one person or the ill health of 
another is the single drop to color the joy of a 
whole family or a circle of acquaintances, and the 
bestower of all this upon others may remain abso- 
lutely ignorant of that silent and unseen working. 
So, in the sphere of the good, the predominant 
qualities carry with them a sweet and saving atmos- 
phere, so that good is being accomplished when a 
man wills as well when he is not moved by actual 
purpose. He thus becomes a perpetual benefactor, 
and a continuous gracious power among men. 

A good-natured, humorous person is the great 
giver to society. He furnishes smiles, and joys, and 
courage, and hope, and patience, and a thousand 
other blessings without any credit from the recip- 
ient. His very presence is a benediction, the oil on 
the machinery of life. The courage of one man has 
turned the tide of many a battle. Oh, what a stu- 
pendous possibility in every life. We do so much 
more than we think. Beyond estimation or calcu- 

124 



LIFE'S INFLUENCE 

lation is the influence of one day in the three score 
and seventy years. 

Every man is a receiver as well as a giver in the 
world of influence. It pours in upon him from, 
every direction as well as radiating from the centre 
of his own being and touching all other lives. He 
is most sensitive to its contact. There is no illus- 
tration in the natural or mechanical world to reveal 
this readiness to be fashioned and shaped by this 
unseen hand. Some philosophy in its emphasis of 
this great truth would even make this almost the 
creator of what a man is or shall be. Through the 
eye and ear, hand and reason, and nerve centre, and 
all openings to the heart of life rush these master 
architects and builders of the human temple. 

How this enlarges possibility, and opens the 
golden gateways of opportunity, and enhances the 
value of friendship, and increases the importance of 
the clock's tick. Every moment shares in the struc- 
ture of character, and is the author of success. It 
claims its part in the making of destiny. 

The fragrance of every flower, the song of every 
bird, the grace of every cloud, and the twinkle of 
every star enters human life in some form and de- 

125 



LIFE'S INFLUENCE 

gree. How much more the single odor, and song, 
and grace, and flash of another soul! 

The child comes into the world of influence, and 
that is all. The providence of God places the babe 
in the centre of a circle, — father, mother, brother, 
sister, and friends. That new life is not governed 
by abstract propositions or rules, or known princi- 
ples of living. It is the subject of influence, and all 
the early years are passed in that condition. Even 
the school life is largely that. The man comes to 
be governed more by the influence of things, but it 
is his injury, and not his blessing. Neither is it a 
necessity. 

The great force in all life is this personal influ- 
ence. Everybody knows its importance and power 
when he sees the chief control his clan, or the gen- 
eral his army. A Napoleon or a Grant were might- 
iest in this part of the battle. 

This is a more important question because of the 
modern inter-relation of humanity. Influence is 
farther-reaching and more certain of effect. We 
now touch the whole world, and cannot think of 
isolation. The waves of influence go out from every 
life and sweep around the world. Neighbor means 

126 






LIFE'S INFLUENCE 

more. Brother is a greater reality. Humanity is a 
larger word. 

Commerce and Christianity both are thrusting 
responsibility upon the shoulders of every man, and 
the law of life compels him to carry it. There is 
no escape. Consider the number of human beings 
an ordinary business man touches in a single day, 
or even a woman in the home. Almost every 
article brought to the door is carried by a separate 
individual. All these influence others, and they in 
turn others. Who will dare to make a calculation 
of this large sum? 

Human mathematics are out of place in this 
higher sphere. Remember that you never meet an 
immortal soul in any capacity or glance at a human 
face without exerting this stupendous force upon it. 
The way you speak, or look, or move is the revela- 
tion of your actual self, and bears fruit a hundred- 
fold in the rich soil of human life. 

Character is contagious. In every greeting and 
moment of conversation, in every letter, there is a 
subtle influence that goes from us and reaches 
further and makes deeper impression than any an- 
ticipation on our part. 

The noblest soul does not cry, " Oh, God, make 

127 



LIFE'S INFLUENCE 

me pure, and truthful, and kingly for my own sake." 
The greater effect is upon others, and the holiest 
ambition is to possess the richest character for the 
sake of others. It is not life unto self, but in the 
relation to countless other lives. 

A lonely and uninhabited island is the only 
place for a false, base, and impure life. The tragedy 
of life is this power and certainty of contamination. 
No man can escape this grave responsibility. 

Dwarfed and crippled and belittled lives through 
his influence will all stand in judgment to condemn 
him or the enlarged and ennobled souls influenced 
by him to higher life, will be his joy and crown of 
rejoicing. Face the great fact, most heart-search- 
ing and most heart-compelling. What I am, others 
will be. Heaven keep me from sin for their sake. 

The character which you are constructing is not 
all your own possession. It is the quarry out of 
which other men bring the stones for the temple 
of their own lives. 

Byron was a mighty poetical genius. So great 
in the world of literature that Tennyson declared 
when he died that he thought the world had come 
to an end, but Byron's life of dissipation and sin 
has been the source of his real influence upon other 

128 



LIFE'S INFLUENCE 

men. Poetry could not cover up the greater maker 
of character. 

" Though Elizabeth possessed great and heroic 
traits of character," says Drummond, " yet she had 
such a treacherous, jealous, pitiably weak and un- 
sympathetic nature as to ruin all her noble quali- 
ties. She was cruel, and Hentzmer, the traveller, 
states that he himself counted, l no less than three 
hundred heads on London Bridge, of persons exe- 
cuted for high treason.' She would swear at her 
ministers in the midst of the gravest deliberations. 
Splendor and pleasure were the very air she 
breathed. She was the greatest liar in the world. 
She hoodwinked and outwitted almost every states- 
man in Europe. She met every difficulty with a lie 
when it would solve it. She had no religious senti- 
ment whatever. She had a bad temper, and, in a fit 
of anger, condemned to death her favorite Earl 
of Essex, the only man she ever loved. Her life 
is an illustration of the blighting power of selfish- 
ness and heartlessness upon friendship." 

Alexander's drunken habits dominated every fac- 
ulty, destroyed his power, and ended his life at 
thirty-two. 

In our world there is not an hour but is freighted 

129 



LIFE'S INFLUENCE 

with destinies for ourselves and others, not even 
the fraction of a second that does not hesitate to 
pass on the dial of time and be gone forever. The 
smallest deed or the faintest whisper of a word or 
the slightest motion of the body is a part of the 
movement of the whole universe of God. How 
much life is composed of apparent trifles, small 
deeds of kindness, slight tokens of love or the single 
flower of appreciation and sympathy. The world 
is not all mountains. The violet in the fence-cor- 
ner or one of the unnumbered daisies in the 
meadow share in the beauty, and safety, and perfec- 
tion of the earth. 

The value of life is unrecognized by failure to un- 
derstand the might of influence. Most men are 
waiting for some great opportunity, and failing in 
the completion of daily duty. There is no genius 
if it is not a treasurer of the minute details of life. 

The flowers by the wayside do not waste their 
fragrance. The traveller may not realize it, but the 
odor is his encouragement and strength for the 
weary journey. It is a small part of life to wave 
banners and blow trumpets. Through the law of 
influence each hour trembles with opportunity. No 
man is conscious of the pressure of the atmosphere 

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LIFE'S INFLUENCE 

upon him, but it is always there as a great element 
in his life. Its gentleness will not push the tiny- 
leaf or weigh heavily upon the youngest child, so 
the influence of a life is unseen and often unrecog- 
nized, but mighty in its power. 

Many do not know how the Americans came to 
be called Brother Jonathan. George Washington, 
having been made Commander-in-Chief of the army 
of the Revolution, went to Massachusetts to organ- 
ize his forces. It was an awful time of perplex- 
ity. Jonathan Trumbull was the Governor of Con- 
necticut, and a man of a quiet disposition, but splen- 
did judgment and undying patriotism. His influ- 
ence was not known to be great, but George Wash- 
ington had unlimited confidence in his ability and 
patriotism, and said to his officers in the most try- 
ing circumstances, " Let us consult Brother Jona- 
than." Again and again during the war was 
Jonathan Trumbull advised with, and it came to be 
a byword among the troops and among the 
officers, " Let us consult Brother Jonathan." Thus 
it became the sobriquet of the American, and has 
had much to do with the increasing victory of the 
idea of brotherhood. 

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LIFE'S INFLUENCE 

This ordinary life still lives in this great nation, 
not only in name but in reality. 

The Divine Man was on His way to raise a ruler's 
daughter from the dead. A poor woman touched 
the hem of His garment, and was healed. His mis- 
sion at that time was to save another and seemingly 
a more important person. This work, almost un- 
consciously done on His way, reveals the Christ 
best. 

What we propose to do gives expression to our 
will and ambition. What we do unconsciously and 
on the way to the great act reveals our character. 
This tells the story of the virtue in us. Most of 
the best and purest work of life is done uncon- 
sciously and without plan or intent. 

More than one hundred years ago, a young Mo- 
ravian hastened with the message of the Gospel for 
the poor, stricken and enslaved people of Jamaica. 
What horror he was about to face he knew not him- 
self. No one had ever been able to depict it, as 
blood-stained as it was. Our age cannot realize 
the existence of slavery like that. It was economy 
even to kill slaves when weakened by hardship and 
toil and purchase new ones, because they were so 
cheap. The markets and pens were like the places 

132 



LIFE'S INFLUENCE 

of selling cattle without a mark of humanity upon 
them. The owner's lash was crimson with fresh 
life. The wrongs suffered by those negroes were so 
great that they would not listen to this young white 
man. They would not and could not believe him. 
He then had himself sold as a slave, and worked 
with them under the cruel whip. This was the 
conqueror. They now crowded about him, and 
listened to his story of freedom in Christ. They be- 
lieved it, and lived it. It was to the least of them, 
but it was done unto Christ; yes, done by the very 
spirit of Christ. This heroic soul died in young 
life and as a slave, but years afterward the pathetic 
story reached the ears and heart of Wilberforce, 
and influenced him to surrender his life to the liber- 
ation of the slave. His magnificent work and cour- 
age against the awful traffic in flesh and blood was 
largely the result of the influence of the apparently 
buried life of an unknown Moravian boy. 

Lincoln signed the Emancipation Proclamation 
with a pen dipped in the blood of that boy. That 
is the mightiest force in the world. Who can meas- 
ure it? In the upper world, Lincoln and Wilber- 
force may stand one on either side of the unknown 

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LIFE'S INFLUENCE 

Moravian. Even that may be a misrepresentation. 
He may stand nearer the Christ. 

The great teachers and educators have invariably 
been men of great personality. They are known 
not so much for their intellectual greatness as for 
the mighty impress of their character upon the lives 
of others. 

Arnold of Ruby lived in thousands of boys and 
men, and some of the world's greatest and best, by 
virtue of the influence he exerted upon them in the 
classroom. 

Some years after the eminent John Stuart Blackie 
became professor of Greek in the University of 
Edinburgh, at the opening of a college term, the 
students noticed that, under the pressure of cares 
and labors, their hot-tempered professor had be- 
come unusually sensitive and exacting. Students 
desiring admission were arranged in line before his 
desk for examination. " Show your papers," said 
the professor. As they obeyed, one lad awkwardly 
held up his papers in his left hand. " Hold them 
up properly, sir, in your right hand," said the pro- 
fessor. The embarrassed pupil stammered out 
something indistinctly, but still kept his left hand 
raised. "The right hand, ye loon!" shouted the 

134 



LIFE'S INFLUENCE 

professor. " Sir, I hae nae right hand," said the 
agitated lad, holding up his right arm, which ended 
at the wrist. A storm of indignant hisses burst 
from the boys, but the great man leaped down from 
the platform, flung his arm over the boy's shoulder, 
and drew him to his breast, and, breaking into the 
broad Scotch of his childhood, in a voice soft with 
emotion, yet audible in the hush that had fallen on 
the class, said: " Eh, laddie, forgive me that I was 
over-rough; I dinna mean to hurt you, lad. I dinna 
ken!" 

And, turning with tearful eyes to the class, he 
said, " I thank God He has given me gentlemen 
to teach, who can ca' me to account when I go 
astray." That honest word captured the boys for- 
ever, and their cheers were as hearty as their hisses 
had been indignant. 

His fame and his power began from that day. 
His was the education of a righteous influence. 

These men lived even more after they were dead 
than they did before. The greatest men of earth 
were not half alive while they were living. Some- 
times they seemed useless while they moved about 
in the flesh, but a glance at the life they lived since 
reveals their true greatness. 

135 



LIFE'S INFLUENCE 

Others tried to kill the best when they were upon 
earth and doing their duty, Elijah, and Jeremiah, and 
Isaiah, and all their royal following. They dragged 
Garrison through the streets. They murdered 
Lovejoy and cursed Philips, but afterward in the 
great tide of their increasing influence they erect 
monuments to their memory and point to them 
with pride. The very things which most con- 
cerned men in the past are all forgotten in the pres- 
ent, — position, power, money, food, and clothing, — 
but the seemingly most valueless and unreal things 
— principle, character, vision, etc., are everlastingly 
remembered and treasured. The ship is kept afloat 
and reaches port by what is above the surface and 
points toward heaven. It is the power of life in the 
future which increases its sanctity and creates its 
value. 

Elihu Burritt, the learned blacksmith, used to 
thrill his audiences with his graphic description of 
a young man who, at perilous risk of his life, clung 
with his toes and one hand to a high point in the 
rocky wall of the Natural Bridge in Virginia, while 
with the other hand he gouged with his pocket- 
knife a still higher notch for his foot, that he might 
be able to raise himself and mark his name above 

136 



LIFE'S INFLUENCE 

any that had been before him. Suc'h is a man's 
ambition to have his name in an honorable and 
conspicuous place. But there is a place for the 
record of names more honorable than all, and 
within every one's reach. 

If a man is unknown on earth while he lives, and 
yet lives a righteous and godly life, that is his 
treasure, and never can be destroyed. His real self 
cannot be touched. That is the only part of him 
which does not die. It will live on and shine on. 
Death is only the stripping of a husk, the removal 
of the rind, and men discover and live upon the 
fruit and the beauty of character. They are forced 
to bow down to his memory, and declare a century 
afterward that that is a sample of God in the soul 
of man. That which is esteemed best as life goes 
on in the flesh is to be mostly thrown away. The 
package is examined in the next world before it is 
received. 

No procession to the grave may be the introduc- 
tion to the most brilliant triumphal procession in 
heaven. Life's value and reward is its perpetuity 
here and hereafter. 

Cut-glass may flash brilliancy, but the perma- 
nency and depth of the diamond's light is its 

137 



LIFE'S INFLUENCE 

treasure. Life here passes quickly and vanishes 
away. It seems like a vapor, but it is more, be- 
cause influence is permanent and enduring. Boy- 
hood goes, youth goes, manhood goes, old age is 
upon us. Faculty weakens and loses all power 
sometimes, mind decays, body has no vitality, but 
through ages and the eternal years, what a man is 
and does remains. The energy of influence is not 
lost. Does it not increase? 

They attempted to frighten Savonarola and drive 
him from the path of duty, but he faces Lorenzo 
with the declaration that the Lord is no respecter 
of persons, and he must repent even if he is a prince. 
They next threaten him with banishment, but he 
adds: " I fear not sentence of banishment, for this 
city of yours is like a mustard-seed upon the earth, 
but the new doctrine shall triumph and the old 
shall fall, although I be a stranger and Lorenzo a 
citizen, and indeed the first in the city. I shall 
stay while he shall depart." Then with a vision of 
the prophet, he declared that great changes were 
coming in Italy. Lorenzo, and the Pope, and the 
King of Naples all were near unto death, and his 
courageous soul had seen aright and witnessed to 
the truth, for very soon after Lorenzo and Innocent 

138 



LIFE'S INFLUENCE 

VIII. died, and Charles VIII. invaded Italy. A few 
weeks after this astonishing prophecy Lorenzo was 
upon his death-bed at his country home. The last 
offices of his false religion afforded his guilty con- 
science no relief and gave him no hope. He had 
lost confidence in all men, for they were so depraved 
and cowardly as to obey every wicked wish of his. 
He said, " No one ever ventures to utter a reso- 
lute ' No ' to me." He even said his confessor was 
false. To whom could he go. There was only one 
man in all Italy who had not lost his influence over 
him. That man was his enemy, — no, the enemy 
ot his un'holy life. That man of conquering influ- 
ence was Savonarola, the man who never yielded 
to his threats or flatteries. He said in the last mo- 
ments of his life, " I know no honest friar but him." 
He was sent for, Lorenzo made confession of three 
sins, for which he desired absolution. He became 
excited and frightened. Savonarola calmed him, 
and said: " God is good; God is merciful. Listen. 
Three things are required of you." " And what are 
they? " he anxiously asked. Savonarola raised the 
fingers of his right hand and began. " First, it is 
necessary that you should have a full and lively 
faith in the mercy of God." " That I have most 

139 



LIFE'S INFLUENCE 

fully.'' " Secondly, it is necessary to restore that 
which you unjustly took away, or enjoin your sons 
to restore it for you." This requirement appeared 
to cause him surprise and grief; however, with an 
effort he gave his consent by a nod of his head. 
Savonarola then rose up, and while the dying 
prince shrank with terror in his bed, the confessor 
seemed to rise above himself when saying, " Lastly, 
you must restore liberty to the people of Florence." 
But Lorenzo, collecting all the strength that nature 
had left him, turned his back angrily upon him 
without uttering a word. Accordingly Savonarola 
withdrew from his presence without granting his 
absolution. Lorenzo remained torn by remorse, 
and soon after breathed his last that same day. 

The mightiest man now in the kingdom was 
Savonarola. The people looked to him, and he 
was true as steel. He denounced evil, and urged 
reform with even greater severity. He taught the 
true liberty and fought tyranny. He became even- 
tually the ruler of Florence, though not in name. 
The people called for him to make their new gov- 
ernment. All this was only temporary, and soon 
the old cry arose, " Crucify him, crucify him," 
and all his great influence banished like a boy's 

140 



LIFE'S INFLUENCE 

bubble, and was lost. Ah, no, Savonarola's influ- 
ence was greater when he was dead than when he 
was alive. His eloquence has thundered through 
all the years since. His cry for liberty and pure 
religion is still heard upon earth, and will be heard 
until every shackle, seen and unseen, is broken, and 
the Christ, whose echo he was, shall have made all 
men free and all worship pure. 

Influence challenges every destroyer. Witness 
Shaftsbury among the outcasts of London. Wit- 
ness John Howard in the prison and dungeons of 
Europe. Witness Florence Nightingale on the 
battlefields of the world. Witness Grace Darling 
among the shipwrecked and in every ray of light 
from the rockbound coasts of the sea. Witness 
Carey going from England, and Judson from 
America, and Livingston from Scotland, and a 
noble line of missionary heroes and martyrs of 
whom the world was not worthy. Hearken, and 
you can hear the echo of the hammer upon the 
door of Wittenburg and the stroke of the oar in the 
hand of the galley slave from Scotland. 

The mightiest force in the world of influence is 
the companionship of Jesus Christ. His is not in- 
tellectual or even moral, but the whole circumfer- 

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LIFE'S INFLUENCE 

ence of the spiritual. Mystery, but glorious reality, 
only known and appreciated by the initiated, but 
offered to all. Not only skill or genius, but su- 
premest character is his. A centre of light even 
more radiant than the sun in the sky of the natural 
world. 

I bow before the world's greatest and best, and 
acknowledge in the deepest gratitude my great 
debt for their influence on me, but I fall prostrate 
before the Christ and weep the praise too deep for 
words. I know his secret and his charm. Luther 
was once found, at a moment of peril and fear, when 
he had need to grasp unseen strength, sitting in an 
abstracted mood, tracing on the table with his 
finger " Vivit," " Vivit,"— " He lives," " He lives." 

That is the great discovery and great comfort 
of life. Soul of man seeking for the best, accept 
this introduction to the Son of God, and be ushered 
into the circle of His Divine influence. 

142 



It is only when they spring to heaven that angels 
Reveal themselves to you ; they sit all day 
Beside you, and lie down at night by you, 
Who care not for their presence, muse, or sleep ; 
And all at once they leave you and you know them. 

— Browning. 

The keenest pangs the wretched find 

Are rapture to the dreary void, 
The leafless desert of the mind, 

The waste of feelings unemployed. — Byron. 

Think naught a trifle^ though it small appear; 
Small sands the mountain, moments make the year 
And trifles life. 
Your care to trifles give, 
Else you may die ere you have learned to live. 

— Young. 



143 



VI 
LIFE'S WASTE 

When the few barley loaves lay in the basket 
at the feet of Christ and waited to grow, under His 
divine touch, into an abundance for five thousand 
hungry people, the great Teacher and Miracle- 
worker did not lose the opportunity to impress 
one of the deepest lessons of life upon the minds 
of men. He permitted them to behold with aston- 
ishment that marvellous and momentary increase 01 
the barley cakes into thousands of their kind. 
There was no limit. It was like the transformation 
of the barren field instantly into the harvest of 
golden corn. The beholder declared that such 
power was only from God, and this man must be 
made king. It was in this moment of excitement 
and temporary glory that Christ revealed the great- 
ness in humility and the preeminence of truth. He 
refused the crown, but failed not in impressing a 
valuable lesson. He declared that God's abundance 

144 



LIFE'S WASTE 

would not permit of waste. Anything which comes 
from His hand is precious. He could keep on 
breaking it forever, but every piece was sacred. 
The relation of abundance to waste involves some 
of the deepest philosophy of life. Every fragment 
of the world's riches should be most caref ully 
guarded and garnered. One of the most prolific 
sources of wealth in these recent years has been 
the utilization of waste products; inventive genius 
has discovered mines of wealth in the refuse and 
slag at the back door. The keen eye of man saw the 
mass of waste at the side of the silk factory, and all 
the plush of the world has been taken from that of- 
fensive, unattractive, useless material. It is supreme 
wisdom to know how to transform the waste of the 
world into the riches of the world. It is the noblest 
character which gathers the fragments up into the 
bundle of life. When that youth sat upon the slag- 
heap of a mine in California, he studied each clod 
with righteous purpose and determination, and then 
fashioned a machine that extracted more wealth 
from that refuse than other men had ever secured 
from the mine itself. Peter Cooper declared that 
he built Cooper Institute by picking up the waste 
from the butchers' shops. The Persians have a 

145 



LIFE'S WASTE 

strange story concerning the discovery of the Gol- 
conda diamond mines. Ali Hafed owned a farm 
through which ran a beautiful river. He sat upon 
its bank one morning, when the children brought 
a stranger to his side. This traveller showed him 
a diamond and told him that a handful of these 
stones would make him fabulously rich and he 
would become a prince among men. He also in- 
formed him that there were mines of diamonds in 
the world for the man who would discover them. 
Ali Hafed dreamed in his discontent that night, 
and in the early hours of the morning determined 
to sell his farm at any price and search for diamonds, 
and riches, and royalty. After years of fruitless en- 
deavor he came to be an old man, in the extremity 
of poverty and want. Rags were his garments and 
despair his companion. Inquiry revealed the sad 
fact that his loved ones had all died, and some of 
them without the necessities of life. The peasant 
who bought his farm was a prince, because in the 
sand on the bank of the stream he had found a 
sparkling gem of rare beauty and highest value. 
He then found that the sand and the farm were 
sown with these jewels. That very farm was and is 

the place of the famous Golconda diamond mines. 

146 



LIFE'S WASTE 

The owner had closed his eyes to the enormous 
wealth at his feet. 

At the side of every man is the abundance of 
wealth from the hand of God; diamond mines of 
time, and talent, and strength; mines of opportu- 
nity, and character, and eternal treasure. The sin 
is in the failure to appreciate these and in permit- 
ting them to be lost. Life's waste is one of the 
chief factors in life's poverty. Everything is most 
precious when the divine hand has touched it. He 
is most guilty and comes to greatest penury who 
does not gather up these jewels with extremest care. 
In the abundance is the divine economy. In the 
twelve basketfuls of fragments is the difference 
between success and failure. Time is one of our 
most valuable possessions, and we are held respon- 
sible for its honest use. Time is our patrimony, re- 
ceived to be used, and to bring the best possible 
returns. Dividends are demanded from our in- 
vestment of it. In our dealings with time is the 
possibility of our highest integrity or our deepest 
dishonesty. We have made divisions in time and 
thus wrought injury upon its value. It is all a part 
of eternity, and eternity is God. Its sanctity is pre- 
eminently in the fact of its being God's possession 

147 



LIFE'S WASTE 

and used by us. Not only one day in the week is 
His, but each moment of each day is held by divine 
right, and is thus most valuable property. If Sun- 
day is a day for rest, and Monday a day for work, 
that does not take Monday out of God's calendar 
or God's ownership. Work is a divine command 
as well as rest, and carries just as much sanctity 
with it. Life is a mosaic, and each part is to be 
fashioned and perfected by itself before it fits into 
the beautiful pattern. 

Among the applicants visiting the " Intelligence 
Office," which Hawthorne describes so vividly, 
there is an aged gentleman who makes every mo- 
tion according to an unyielding purpose. He says, 
boldly and repeatedly, that he is in search of to- 
morrow. " I have spent my life in pursuit of it, 
being assured that to-morrow has some vast benefit 
or other in store for me. But now I am getting a 
little in years and must make haste, for unless I 
overtake to-morrow soon I begin to be afraid it 
will escape me." But the answer comes back from 
the man who gives information and carries a certain 
pathos with it to the discouraged heart of the old 
man. " This fugitive to-morrow, my venerable 
friend, is a stray child of time, and is flying from his 

148 



LIFE'S WASTE 

father into the region of the infinite. Continue 
your pursuit and you will doubtless come up with 
him, but as to the earthly gifts which you expect 
he has scattered them all among a throng of yes- 
terdays." The value which a man places upon the 
moments of to-day is the author of all good in 
every to-morrow. It is a sad confession which 
Thomas Hood makes for himself and countless 
numbers of his fellow men. " My forty years have 
been my forty thieves, for they have stolen 
strength, hope, and many other joys." It demands 
a soul like Charlotte Bronte to know the real 
meaning of the clock's tick. She said: " I shall be 
thirty-one next birthday. My youth has all gone 
like a dream, and very little use I made of it." The 
hours have swift wings. They fly past a single 
point but once, and are gone forever, but they 
carry messages into the other world. There are 
more prodigals wasting this substance of life than 
any other human possession. They have received 
it from their Father's hand, but are fast losing it 
in the riotous, thoughtless manner of living. 
Michael Faraday, when a poor apprentice, valued 
every moment, and said that time was all he asked. 
In a letter to his friend, this bottle-washer in the 

149 



LIFE'S WASTE 

chemical laboratory wrote: " Time is all I require. 
Oh, that I could purchase at a cheap rate some 
of our modern gents' spare hours — nay, days. I 
think it would be a good bargain both for them 
and for me." There can be no thrift or ultimate 
success where hour is not fastened to hour and 
moment woven into moment in the great pattern 
of life. These jewelled particles of time are what 
the single blade of grass is to the lawn, or the leaf 
to the formation and emerald glory of the tree, 
what the grain of sand is to the mountain, what the 
sparkling snow-flake is to the white-robed hill- 
side, what the drop of water is to the ocean. Its 
value depends largely upon its association and its 
vital relation to the perfected whole. When Dan- 
iel Webster stood at the foot of his class, which 
had come to be for him the point of despair, they 
told him not to give up, but to utilize every mo- 
ment as life's greatest treasure and preserve it in 
the casket of determined industry. They said, 
place the highest value on your time and you will 
be victor. The advice was heeded, and at the end 
of the first quarter Mr. Emery, mustering his class 
in a line, formally took the arm of young Webster 

150 



LIFE'S WASTE 

and marched him from the foot to the extreme 
head. 

At the end of the second quarter when the class 
was mustered, Mr. Emery said, " Daniel Webster, 
gather up your books and take down your cap/' 
The boy obeyed, and, thinking he was about to 
be expelled from school, was sorely troubled. 

The teacher soon dispelled the illusion, for he 
continued: " Now, sir, you will please report your- 
self to the teacher of the first class! And you, 
young gentlemen, will take an affectionate leave 
of your classmate, for you will never see him 
again." 

They never did see him in that classroom again; 
but the day came when the eyes of the nation be- 
held him. 

There is no class in the world which can keep 
a young man at its foot who has learned the mean- 
ing of a moment. In any department of life, he 
who will take his hands out of his pockets and say, 
in the deep of his soul, time is precious, and be 
true to his conviction, will be crowned a king. 
Every bridge, and factory, and railroad, and suc- 
cessful enterprise, or work of art, was built out of 
time. Time is just as much of a mine as the gold 

151 



LIFE'S WASTE 

mine. It is just as much of a quarry as the granite 
hill. Most men waste it and then grieve over their 
loss at the other end of the line. Death is the re- 
vealer of its real value. Time is not only money 
but it is everything. Lose that and you have lost 
all. Waste it and you are throwing life itself away. 
A single moment wasted is suicidal, and bears the 
condemnation of all sin. Most men who have made 
a failure of life and are clinging to the wreckage, 
can look back and see hours of golden opportunity 
lost by their own blindness, and negligence, and 
lack of seizing and holding power. There are test 
hours which lead on to triumph or failure. Colum- 
bus had his supreme moment. What a calamity 
if he had wasted it! Washington had his hour 
which was freighted with tremendous import. 
Lincoln held his watch when destiny itself was in 
the tick. Luther with the Pope's bull above the 
flames and Knox before Queen Mary were at mo- 
ments with an eternity in them. The battles of 
men and nations have often hung in the balance 
of a fraction of time. 

At the Congress of Vienna Wellington told 
Stratford Canning, afterward Lord Stratford de 

152 



LIFE'S WASTE 

Redclyffe, how he won the victory at the battle of 
Salamanca. 

Marshal Marmont commanded the French. The 
Duke, trusting to the ability of the Frenchman to 
make a slip, drew up his troops in a position where 
they were not exposed, and then waited. His con- 
fidence was justified. Marmont extended a part 
of his force too much. Wellington instantly de- 
tected his adversary's error and attacked him with 
energy. 

" We beat him," said the Duke, in a tone of 
natural delight, " in forty minutes, — forty thousand 
men in forty minutes," — and he repeated the ex- 
pression again and again. " Forty thousand men 
in forty minutes." 

When this same iron Duke was a boy he was 
exceedingly unpromising. Even his mother called 
him a dunce and was so discouraged with him that 
she neglected him, believing that there was little 
use in attempting to make anything out of him, 
but his Waterloo was won in those very hours. At 
Eton College he was regarded as being dreamy and 
with no special talent, only to play the violin. He 
even displayed no desire to enter the army, but 
inclined to the life of a civilian. His secret is 

153 



LIFE'S WASTE 

discovered in the holy determination to not waste 

his time, but to regard it as his most precious gift. 

He held it sacred then, and afterward, and the 

battlefields of his life tell the story of its triumphant 

victories. Everything can be bought with the 

golden coin of time. It is current everywhere, and 

never fluctuates in value. " Every man has his 

chance." But with open eye and steady nerve he 

must grasp it as it passes. " There is a tide in the 

affairs of men which, taken at its flood, leads on to 

fortune," but the fortune lies in the taking as much 

as in the tide. 

" Seize, seize the hour 
Ere it slips from you; seldom comes the moment 
In life which is ended sublime and mighty." 

Critical and strategic moments do not flash their 
brilliancy in every light, but the open-eyed hero 
will always detect their real value and claim it as 
his own. 

The waste of time is life's greatest blunder and 
most destructive force. In the fragments is an 
abundance of opportunity. Oh, how ruinous waste 
has shattered the hopes and ambitions of men! It 
has been the author of despair and even death to 
the best in life. The greatest discovery of young 
life is the value of time. 

154 



LIFE'S WASTE 

Paley, who was not a rich youth, went to Christ- 
church College, Cambridge. One night he spent 
the whole evening with his friends, wasting his 
time, not sinfully, but worthlessly. About three 
o'clock in the morning a heavy knock came to his 
room door; and Paley, amazed, said, " Come in; " 
and there came in one of his college friends. He 
sat down on his bed, and said: " Paley, I have 
come to talk to you; I can't get any sleep through 
thinking about you. You know who I am. I have 
got plenty of money, and it does not matter what 
I do at college. I can afford a life of indolence, 
but you cannot, and you have got a good head, 
and I have not; and, Paley, I have come to tell you 
that if you waste your time with us worthless fel- 
lows, I'll cut you. I have got no sleep, thinking 
about you. If you are going to waste your time 
in indolence, I'll call you friend no longer. It 
came as a thunderbolt to the young fellow, and he 
said, " Thank you." He rose at five o'clock, only 
two hours later, and after a word of prayer he went 
to his books; and he registered a vow that every 
moment 'he could spare should be devoted to in- 
tellectual study. And he wrote the " Horae 
Paulinae," and became a king in the intellectual 

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LIFE'S WASTE 

world. It was the industry of one moment added 
to another which made the granite mountain of his 
success. 

The sides of life's pathway are also strewn with 
the waste talents which careless hands have thrown 
away and lost forever. Every man has some en- 
dowment from heaven. It may not be the same 
as that of other men. It is better that it is not, and 
belongs exclusively to him. His very peculiarity 
may be his wealth. The one man received five 
talents, the other two, and the other one, but each 
gift contained the same possibility of reward. The 
fidelity of one man doubled his possession and he 
received the just commendation. The second man, 
by faithful use, multiplied his riches by two and 
praise and promise were showered upon him. The 
last recipient, who had not learned to estimate real 
values, and who had never discovered the startling 
possibility of accumulation in one talent, threw it 
away. He wasted it by burial and received con- 
demnation instead of commendation. Only in use 
is there righteous reward. To waste a single talent 
is to be guilty and to be a failure. Any man who 
will patiently compound the interest on a single 

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LIFE'S WASTE 

talent will be rewarded with greater riches and 
crowned with success. 

There is a false modesty upon one hand and a 
false conceit upon the other which make havoc with 
some of the brightest possibilities in life. One man 
misses the mark by an unwarranted modesty or a 
falsely named humility. He tremblingly declares 
that there is no great thing to come out of his 
life and he must be content to stand in the back 
row. He blindly and sinfully wastes the increas- 
ing riches of a single talent. Another man claims 
to have many talents and brilliant opportunities 
and he can afford to waste some of them and still 
be certain of success. False modesty and false con- 
ceit are culprits and vandals in the treasure-house 
of life. 

Here is Mr. Gladstone's advice to young men: 
Be sure that every one of you has his place and 
vocation on this earth, and that it rests with him- 
self to find it. Do not believe those who too 
lightly say, " Nothing succeeds like success." 
Effort — honest, manful, humble effort — succeeds 
by its reflected action, especially in youth, better 
than success, which, indeed, too easily and too early 
gained, not seldom serves, like winning the throw 

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LIFE'S WASTE 

of the dice, to blind and stupefy. Get knowledge, 
all you can. Be thorough in all you do, and re- 
member that though ignorance often may be inno- 
cent, pretension is always despicable. Quit you 
like men, be strong, and exercise your strength. 
Work onward and upward, and may the blessing of 
the Most High soothe your cares, clear your vision, 
and crown your labors with reward! " 

She placed the two mites, which make a farthing, 
in the treasury, and little did she realize what a 
great loss the world would have suffered had she 
not filled her part in the sacrificial life. Never was 
there a better investment made in the kingdom of 
God. Her conscientious and self-denying service 
has been made the inspiration of the world's best 
giving. Every alabaster box in the hand of a Mary 
has filled the whole house and all the earth with 
fragrance, and even the flowers in heaven have 
been made sweeter. 

What God can bring out of a gift is equally won- 
derful. The gift of Mrs. McRobert, of Scotland, 
to the missionary David Livingstone was only 
sixty-five dollars. But God used it to save thirty 
years of Livingstone's life, for the native servant 
whom Livingstone employed with the money re- 

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LIFE'S WASTE 

ceived from the Scotch woman saved Livingstone's 
life from the attack of a lion at the peril of his own 
life. 

The great wheel in the factory revolves with 
lightning rapidity and apparently moves the whole 
mass of machinery, but careful inspection reveals 
a very small wheel within the larger one. It is 
geared to the axle on which the great wheel turns. 
Usually unnoticed, but at the very centre of things, 
and of supreme importance. There are usually 
small wheels within the larger wheels. No wife or 
mother can afford to waste her talent in the home. 
The husband or son may be a great wheel in the 
political, or literary, or commercial, or religious 
world, but there would be no revolutions without 
the small wheel at the centre. 

Washington, a lad of twelve years, was going to 
sea. When the cart came to the door for his trunk 
his mother cried and said, " George, your father 
is dead and I cannot bear to have you go away." 
He gave up his plans and remained, and obedience 
to his mother made the presidency possible. John 
Quincy Adams, till the day of his death, repeated 
the little prayer his mother taught him, " Now I lay 
me down to sleep. " Lincoln said, " All I am on 

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LIFE'S WASTE 

earth I owe to my sainted mother." General 
Grant's mother went into a room at a certain hour 
each day during the war to pray for her son 
Ulysses, and he wrote to his parents a letter every 
week from the field when it was possible. Garfield 
kissed the wrinkled face of his mother on the day 
of his inauguration and said, " Mother, you have 
brought me to this." President McKinley left the 
Capitol and the affairs of State to watch at the bed- 
side of his dying mother, to receive her last blessing 
and to give her his last kiss. 

Felix Mendelssohn, when he heard of his sister's 
death, fell fainting on the floor with grief. They 
were to produce the oratorio " Elijah " about a 
week after that time ; but he wrote: " Do not put 
that oratorio before the public now. I cannot take 
any share in it, because through every part of its 
construction is my sister's voice and the expression 
of my sister's love. She advised me after the com- 
position of the oratorio " St. Paul " to take as my 
subject " Elijah," and she sang in it, composed for 
it, and inspired me. I cannot listen to it now. It 
would break my heart, — her voice, her soul, is 
through it all." 

In every life there are elements of strength which 

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LIFE'S WASTE 

can fasten themselves upon the very eternities. 
How carelessly they are regarded by most men. 
They are the seeds which carry within their small 
compass magnificent possibilities of fruitage and 
golden harvest. The granaries of the future can be 
filled by the wise use of a single seed in the present. 
In this miraculous world there are no trifles. There 
are no common things. Nothing is small. Dare 
not speak of the ordinary. Everything is stamped 
indelibly with the extraordinary. Under the touch 
of the master hand marvellous developments arise 
from the minutest seed germ. Cary, sitting in his 
cobbler's shop, or tramping with his load of cob- 
bler's shoes, does not present a bright prophecy. 
His talents were few, and most men could not see 
them. When he ventured, as an utterly unknown 
and stringently poor minister, to preach, his con- 
gregation did not number fifty people gathered in 
a straw-thatched building. But the years passed 
by with talents developed until all the world knows 
his name and applauds his work. After his mar- 
vellous achievements in India and his possession 
of a fame as wide as the world he said to Eustace 
Cary: " If they write my life and say I am a genius, 
they will say falsely, but if they say I can plod, they 

161 



LIFE'S WASTE 

will tell the truth. Yes, Eustace, I can plod." The 
husbanding of his strength and the valuing of his 
talent forced him from the cobbler's bench and 
placed him upon a throne. 

Thomas Carlyle said, " Genius is an immense 
capacity for taking trouble." George Eliot tells 
us " Genius is, at first, little more than a great ca- 
pacity for receiving discipline." I read once how 
a certain prominent man, a judge, wishing to have 
a rough fence built, sent for a carpenter, and 
said to him: "I want this fence mended to keep 
out the cattle. There are some unplaned boards — 
use them. It is ought of sight of the house, so 
you need not take the time to make a neat job. I 
will only pay you a dollar and a half." 

But the judge, coming to look at the work, 
found the boards planed and the work finished with 
excellent neatness. The judge thought the young 
man had done it that he might claim more pay, 
and somewhat angrily said: " I told you this fence 
was to be covered with vines. I do not care how it 
looks." " I do," said the carpenter. " How much 
do you charge? " asked the judge. " A dollar and 
a half," said the man, shouldering his tools. " Why 
did you spend all that labor on the job, if not for the 

162 



LIFE'S WASTE 

money? ' " For the job, sir." " Nobody would 
have seen the poor work on it." " But I should 
have known it was there, sir. No, I'll take only the 
dollar and a half," — and he took it and went away. 

Ten years afterward this carpenter was the suc- 
cessful competitor for a great contract the judge had 
to give out, — the man successful among a crowd of 
others seeking it. " I knew," said the judge, telling 
the story afterward, " we should have only good, 
genuine work from him. I gave him the contract 
and it made a rich man of him." 

That is the key to the world's storehouse. Great- 
ness and riches are the direct and inevitable result 
of a refusal to waste life's talents. 

There is a vast waste in the tissues of life by an 
unwise haste. Our modern world gives evidence 
everywhere of the passing of the cyclone — hurry. 
The demands of our high-pressure civilization are 
death-dealing in their ultimate effect. This insane 
haste never understands the fundamental principles 
of life. It pushes ahead and dares to tread upon 
the most sacred rules for noblest living. It disre- 
gards the foundation and leaves a half-completed, 
tottering structure. Anything, any plan or work, 

so long as the end is reached. Nature never hur- 

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LIFE'S WASTE 

ries. God never hurries, and in the work of Re- 
demption Christ even did not hurry. In their work 
there is no confusion or impatience, but definite 
plan, and constant growth, and final perfection. 
Mere rapidity has ruined the canvas, made discord 
in the music, wrecked the business, destroyed the 
home, and fastened a blight upon everything sweet 
and sacred. Hurry to become rich made the man 
die dishonest. Hurry to become a statesman made 
the man a politician. Haste to become a king made 
the man a fop. Haste to be an artist made the 
man a permanent amateur. Effort to become an 
oak in a single night left a mushroom in the morn- 
ing's dew. The first seven days of the world's his- 
tory were so marvellously productive because the 
Creater rested one-seventh of the time. It is an 
eternal principle woven into the warp and woof of 
our world. The child is forced through the modern 
educational system at the cost of health, and heart, 
and home. Oh, what a waste in the name of edu- 
cation! Some of the best elements in human life 
cannot be destroyed with impunity. Education in 
a hurry always deserves an interrogation-mark after 
it. Development is the larger education. " Haste 

makes waste," is one of the old and unlearned 

164 



LIFE'S WASTE 

truths. It has emphatic application to the day and 
the country in which we live. When men are 
breathing this poisonous atmosphere and rushing 
through life according to this false ideal, there can 
be no calmness, or dignity, or joy, or health. It is 
suicide without a knife. It is the ancestor of ill 
health and restless disposition. It carries a pill-box 
and a prescription in its pocket. It draws the 
nerves to their highest tension and then falsely ac- 
cuses some other element as the cause of this shat- 
tered and broken result. We cannot wait for 
seasons, but the hot-house produce is tasteless and 
a mockery of the springtime's sweetness and prom- 
ise. Haste and waste are indissolubly linked to 
each other, and when a man on a run grasps the 
hand of one he necessarily drags the other. They 
are Siamese twins, and when haste snuffs the suc- 
cess of life, waste sneezes at it. Run any engine 
fast enough and you will need the wrecker's train 
to follow it. Growth is never forced, and beauty is 
ever the result of infinite pains. The little flower 
may appear suddenly, but all the forces in the uni- 
verse have contributed to its beauty through the 
slow movements of an entire year. Hasten its 
growth by drawing the stem out of the ground or 

165 



LIFE'S WASTE 

pressing apart the bud and you destroy its very life. 
The flower of life is lost under the hand of hurry. 
It is the foul assassin of many of the best elements 
in manhood. These false methods of action are 
covered in bright garments, and do not lose their 
sinfulness in their deception. They are large fac- 
tors in the waste of life. There is an abundance 
for all men, but the failure lies in the wrong use 
of it or the carelessness with which men regard it. 
There is an abundance of force in the world, but 
the waste of it is startling and the possibilities in 
it overwhelming. If this vast amount of energy 
in business and social life and the arts and educa- 
tion and everything was centred upon the high- 
est ends of life, what magnificent and enduring re- 
sults would be obtained. So much of it is lost by 
being thrust into secondary purposes and shackled 
to the lower ideals. If cooperation could achieve 
their combination for the sublimer ends, there 
would be a revolution at once. There is enough 
wasted love and sympathy to drive the darkness 
and want from every cheerless home in the land. 
There is enough strength in the schemes and plans 
and contrivances of business and politics and pro- 
fessions to change the whole condition of society 

166 



LIFE'S WASTE 

if used for unselfish and higher purposes. The 
noise, and excitement, and strain, and expenditure 
is where men are scrambling for riches and not in 
search of truth and character. Oh, what sinful 
waste! The momentary prize is the power which 
makes the zeal and effort. It is the trifles of a 
day which secures the expense of force and energy. 
The enthusiasm of the Stock Exchange would save 
the city. The supreme need is the harnessing of 
all these mighty forces in human society for the 
noblest ends and not allow this continuous and 
increasing waste on the secondary things. It is 
not a lack of force. It is a failure in direction. 
Unused or misused force is one of our greatest 
faults, and presents itself as one of the greatest 
problems. A conservative, and candid, and critical 
reviewer said of Sir David Wilkes's life: " He did 
nothing but paint." He had reached prominence 
and fame at the age of twenty-one, but he simply 
lived in the narrow circumference of his studio. 
His motives did not grasp greatness, and he only 
touched the surface of the world. His paintings 
were skilfully worked out, but they lacked in 
breadth, and depth, and mystery, and suggestive- 
ness. There is something more to great art than 

167 



LIFE'S WASTE 

canvas and paint, and even skill. There is an in- 
sight, and purpose, and sympathy with the world 
and mankind. A great artist's world is larger than 
his studio, and his fellow men are more than ma- 
chines, but this criticism does not only apply to a 
painter, but to every man everywhere who adopts 
the same principles. Many lives are surrendered to 
one thing, and that is the centre of every circle. 
A life of power is an inclusive life, not exclusive. 
The whole world lies within its vision, and the in- 
terests of 'humanity are its interests. Any profes- 
sion, of business, or home which shackles the heart 
and fastens it down by these invisible chains to its 
own interests is dwarfing and paralyzing in its 
effect. There is something beyond the material 
for every man who develops genuine manhood and 
enlarges his outlook and character. If a business 
ends in making money, it dulls the faculties and 
creates sordidness. Pecuniary gain is secondary 
to the man himself. That is only paint, and does 
not change the heart of the world. Life is ever 
dull and common when opportunities for good are 
scorned and pathways to nobility are shunned. A 
paint-brush, or a pen, or a broom should be moved 

according to the eternal laws of sacrifice, and sur- 

168 



LIFE'S WASTE 

render, and sympathy, and salvation. Even the 
ordinary becomes the extraordinary, and the lowly 
rises to the exalted, and the common creates 
the uncommon, and everything on earth has the 
touch of heaven upon it. The artist everywhere 
is the man who does more than paint. There is 
more materialism about us than we imagine. It is 
a practical kind of materialism in which we permit 
the temporal, and visible, and secondary things to 
have precedence over the eternal, and unseen, and 
spiritual. We use the muck-rake when we ought 
to use the telescope. Most men have false stan- 
dards of life. They use wrong premises and make 
false estimates. 

Carlyle's severest critic was an old parish road- 
man at Ecclefechan. 

" Been a long time in this neighborhood? " asked 
an English tourist. 

" Been here a' ma days, sir." 

" Then you'll know the Carlyles? " 

" Weel that! A ken the whole of them. There 
was, let me see," he said, leaning on his shovel and 
pondering; "there was Jack; he was a kind o' 
throughither sort o' chap, a doctor, but no a bad 
fellow, Jock — he's deid, mon." 

i6g 



LIFE'S WASTE 

"And there was Thomas/' said the inquirer 
eagerly. 

" Oh, ay, of coorse, there's Tarn — a uselss mune- 
struck chap that writes in London. There's naeth- 
ing in Tarn; but, mon, there's Jamie, owre in the 
Nowlands — there's a chap for ye. Jamie takes 
mair swine into Ecclefechan market than any ither 
farmer i' the parish." 

Most men reach that same conclusion concern- 
ing their brother man. He lives in a higher realm, 
and they are content to live in the lower, and waste 
the best of life. The noblest is created out of that 
which is ignoble. No man has the right to use 
his strength for any other purpose than the highest. 
He wastes that which is most sacred, and loses its 
reward. Every step in the earthly life of the Son 
of God was toward Calvary. " He set His face 
steadfastly to go to Jerusalem." Every minor event 
went into this larger purpose. Every miracle and 
work had its bearing in the one direction. He 
never lost a moment or an atom of strength in the 
lesser things. The ultimate was his object. He 
was lifted up only upon the cross. The sacrificial 
element was the controlling force. That one point 
in His life was the centre of that beautiful mosaic. 

170 



LIFE'S WASTE 

He was not only Saviour but example. Let not 
a broken fragment of the precious gift of life be 
wasted. 

In the workshop of a great Italian artist was a 
poor little boy, whose business it was to clean up 
the floor and tidy up the room after the day's work 
was done. He was a quiet little fellow and always 
did his work well. That was all the artist knew 
about him. 

One day he came to his master and asked tim- 
idly, " Please, master, may I have for my own the 
bits of glass you throw upon the floor? " 

" Why, yes, boy," said the artist. " The bits are 
good for nothing. Do as you please with them." 

Day after day then the child might have been 
seen studying the broken pieces found on the floor, 
laying some one side, and throwing others away. 
He was a faithful little servant, and so year after 
year went by and saw him still in the workshop. 

One day his master entered a storeroom but little 
used, and in looking around came upon a piece of 
work carefully hidden behind the rubbish. He 
brought it to the light, and to his surprise found 
it a noble work of art, nearly finished. He gazed 
at it in speechless amazement. 

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LIFE'S WASTE 

" What great artist can have hidden his work 
in my studio? " he cried. 

At that moment the young servant entered the 
door. He stopped short on seeing his master, and 
when he saw the work in his hands a deep flush 
dyed his face. 

" What is this? " cried the artist. " Tell me what 
great artist has hidden his masterpiece here? " 

" O master," faltered the astonished boy, " it is 
only my poor work. You know you said I might 
have the broken bits you threw away." 

His artist soul had wrought this wonderful re- 
sult. The fragments of life have in them life's mo- 
saic. Not the broken bits of a kaleidoscope, but 

the masterpiece under the hand of God. 

172 



Every soul is a celestial venus to every other soul. The 
heart has its sabbaths and jubilees in which the world appears 
as a hymeneal feast and all natural sounds and the circle of 
the seasons are erotic odes and dances. Love is omnipresent 
in nature as motive and reward. Love is our highest word 
and the synonym of God. Every promise of the soul has in- 
numerable fulfilments. Each of its joys ripens into a new 
want. Nature, uncontainable , flowing, forelooking, in the 
first sentiment of kindness, anticipates already a benevolence 
which shall lose all particular regards in its general light. 
The introduction to this felicity is in a private and tender re- 
lation of one to another, which is the enchantment of human 
life ; which, like a certain divine rage and enthusiasm, 
seizes on a man at one period and works a revolution in his 
mind and body. Unites him to his race ; pledges him to the 
domestic and civic relations ; carries him, with new sympathy, 
into nature ; enhances the power of the senses ; opens the 
imagination ; adds to his character heroic and sacred attri- 
butes ; establishes marriage and gives permanence to human 
society. — Emerson. 

And now abideth faith, hope, and love ; these three, but 
the greatest of these is love. — Bible. 

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VII 
LIFE'S LAW 

Love shortens time, conquers the impossible, 
and defies death. Love is the keyword of life. It 
unlocks the chest in which all the jewels of char- 
acter are kept. Within the four corners of this 
four-lettered word is the " fulfilment of the law." 
" Simon, Son of Jonas, lovest thou Me? " strikes 
at the very centre of a man's heart. That is the 
most searching of all questions. Its answer makes 
complete revelation. Belief, profession, and even 
action are sometimes surface and shallow. This is 
vital and the plummet which fathoms the depths. 
One of the most tragical scenes of all history is 
that of Rizpah, the noble-hearted, heroic mother, 
sitting on the rock of Gibeah for five long, weary 
months at the foot of the cross which held the 
forms of her two sons. She fell upon sackcloth 
and kept that continuous and superhuman vigil un- 
der the burning rays of noonday sun and deadly 

174 



LIFE'S LAW 

dews of the midnight; from April to October the 
beasts and birds and all enemies were driven away. 
Not one moment did sleep compel her to betray 
her trust. Vulture and jackal were disappointed, 
and lost their prey. The traveller paused before 
this strange, sad spectacle and passed on to forget 
the suffering and heroism of the broken-hearted 
mother. These two youths had been sacrificed by 
the enemies of the father, Saul, and a mother's de- 
votion fastened her by unseen shackles to them 
even in death. What force in humanity rendered that 
sublime endurance possible? That one transcend- 
ent word in the language is the only explanation — 
Love. It is the element which alone can live in 
the desolation of the rock, the harshness of the 
sackcloth, the heat of the summer, the chill of the 
night, the loss of rest, and the strain of nerve. It 
defies all opposition and mocks its enemies. It is 
king if it wills to hold the sceptre. It stands by 
the side of broken health, and bankruptcy, and 
empty cradle, and green mound, and every condi- 
tion of human life, and reveals its supremacy. It is 
the only explanation of the power of endurance and 
the willingness of sacrifice. It lightens labor, and 
pushes the hands of the clock, and forces forgetful- 

175 



LIFE'S LAW 

ness of self, and even brushes away the fever from 
the burning brow. It challenges enemies and 
makes the impossible possible. 

Upon one of the Orkney Islands an eagle swoops 
down and lifts a child to its eyrie far up the moun- 
tain-side. With the leap of a deer and the spring 
of a panther, the mother mounts heighth above 
heighth, and crag above crag, and overcomes 
every obstacle. She reaches the side of her child. 
She clutches its destroyer and, with the power of 
a giant, she hurls this wild, fierce king of the birds 
down the mountain-side with broken wing. Love 
empowered her to surpass the ordinary possibility 
of human strength. It entered into every vein and 
artery of her human form and transformed a moun- 
tain into a mole-hill. 

It was declared years ago that no steamer could 
make the voyage from Alexandria to London in 
eight days; that it was an absolute impossibility, be- 
cause no steamer had ever even approached that 
time. But a telegram came to a steamer's captain, 
saying, " Lucy is worse; hurry home." It was ac- 
complished in less than eight days. Great love in- 
creased the steam and the power of machinery 
and pushed every billow out of the pathway and 

176 



LIFE'S LAW 

brushed aside the winds and shouted, " On! on!" 
until the destination was reached. No power in 
the world moves by the side of love. It goes ahead. 
Love is the familiar word of the child. The babe 
first lisps it and illustrates its meaning in the kiss 
and embrace of its pure devotion and affection. It 
is almost the first word upon human lip, but the 
greatest intellect has never fathomed its meaning 
or ventured a definition. The most critical insight 
and vision stand blind before it. It is like other 
familiar words without definition. Who can de- 
fine some monosyllables? Love stands between 
God and man, and all these terms are too much for 
our understanding. The highest wisdom is that 
which loves most, and the most acceptable wor- 
ship at heaven's throne is love. Definition can 
never deny to it the greatest power in the world 
and the first place even in the heart of God. Reason 
beholds it in silence and answers not. We can tell 
what it does, but not what it is. It banishes fear, 
it controls conscience, it creates peace, it strength- 
ens faith, it is the author of hope, and it touches 
with master-stroke every part of human character. 
It transforms the outside world until the howling- 
winds become musical, and darkness brings out the 

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LIFE'S LAW 

stars, and the storm's increasing strength and the 
blackest clouds are circled with gorgeous tints. 
Rainbows are not so much in the far-away dis- 
tance as in the near-by condition of the human eye. 
In the warmth of love, winter changes into spring, 
and every human faculty is made to blossom and 
change its rough exterior into emerald glory. 
Some things which are even rigid and unattractive 
are clothed with brightness and beauty when placed 
in the atmosphere of love. Love is life. We live 
in proportion as we love. We want to live simply 
because we love. We possess a thing when we love 
it. There is no other ownership. This great fact 
is not even contradicted when it touches person- 
ality. There is no falsehood in saying " God is 
mine " — if the conditions are fulfilled. A man 
owns his art if he loves it. He owns his trade, and 
books, and friends only when he loves them. He 
does not secure these rich possessions, the gold- 
mines of earth, by merely honoring duty. Love is 
more than duty. Duty is only a part of love. Most 
men are more familiar with the word duty than 
they are with the great sweeping meaning of love. 
The one is written in the Bible five times; the other 
hundreds of times. Love is a fountain; duty is a 

178 



LIFE'S LAW 

pump-handle. Duty is cast-iron molded according 
to pattern, but love is the result of life. Yes, love 
is the germ of life; it is spontaneous and free. The 
famous soldier at the gates of Pompeii, standing at 
his post to be buried beneath the lava of the burn- 
ing mountain, is a magnificent illustration of fidel- 
ity to duty, but it is not the ideal of life. True 
service is only prompted by love. No man can 
serve himself, his fellow men, or his God, who does 
it according to rule, and is content to live at that 
unsatisfactory point. Florence Nightingale did 
her duty, but it was the compulsion of a love which 
rendered it the most sacrificial and helpful service. 
A farthing in the divine economy is worth more 
than a million if the hand of love carries it. The 
highest education is to learn to love the best things, 
to love truth, and character, and humanity, and 
knowledge, and every virtue, and our occupation. 
Every man can be an artist just where he is if, in 
the spirit of love for his work, he transforms drudg- 
ery into art. The man who loves his work makes 
his work live. It is the life-giving force to it. Can- 
nibals murdered the missionary Williams, but the 
islands of the sea stand as his monument. No knife 
could be thrust into the heart of his work. Agas- 

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LIFE'S LAW 

siz, when a child in Germany, studied the frogs 
and creeping things in a small pond near his home 
and learned a love for the things of nature. He 
studied flies, and spiders, and insects until he had 
a passion for such knowledge. He loved his in- 
vestigation and no one could change the course 
of his life. They attempted to make him study law, 
but his great love ran to natural science, and in face 
of greatest opposition, accepting sublimest sacri- 
fice, his early and increasing love gave him one 
of the highest thrones in the scientific world. The 
great landscape painter of America, West, when 
a small boy, pulled the hairs out of the cat's tail 
tc make a brush, and fell in love with his art. His 
parents and friends did not wish him to be a 
painter, but his art conquered their determination, 
and the hands of love have now placed his paint- 
ings upon the walls of the Capitol at Washington, 
and in the palace of England, and the galleries of 
the world. It is not rules, or even examples, which 
make greatness. Love may even destroy rules and 
go contrary to all precedent, and yet be victor. 
Ruskin says that some one asked Haydn the reason 
for a harmony — for a passage being assigned to one 
instrument rather than another, but all he ever an- 

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LIFE'S LAW 

swered was, " I have done it because it does well." 
Haydn had agreed to give some lessons in 
counterpoint to an English nobleman. " For our 
first lesson/' said the pupil, already learned in the 
art — drawing, at the same time a quatrain of 
Haydn's from his pocket — " for our first lesson, 
may we examine this quatrain, and will you tell me 
the reasons of certain modulations which I cannot 
entirely approve, because they are contrary to the 
principles?" Haydn, a little surprised, declared 
himself ready to answer. The nobleman began, 
and, at the very first measures, found matter for 
objection. Haydn, who was habitually the con- 
trary of a pedant, found himself much embarrassed, 
and answered always: "I have done that because 
it has a good effect." " I have put that passage there 
because it does well." The Englishman, who 
judged that these answers proved nothing, recom- 
menced his proofs and demonstrated to him by 
very good reasons that this quatrain was good for 
nothing. " But, my lord, arrange this quatrain 
then to your fancy. Play it so, and you will see 
which of the two ways is the best." " But why is 
this the best which is contrary to the rules? " " Be- 
cause it is the pleasantest." Haydn at last lost pa- 

181 



LIFE'S LAW 

tience and said, "I see, my lord; it is you who 
have the goodness to give lessons to me, and, truly, 
I do not deserve the honor.'' The partisan of rules 
departed, still supposing that in following the rules 
to the letter one can infallibly produce a " Matri- 
monial Segreto." Love in the musician's soul is 
the power which may not go contrary to rules, but 
works above them and still in them. It seizes upon 
great principles and works miracles without de- 
stroying law. Love in music, and all other parts 
of the world writes in large letters the names of 
certain men, because it, through them, fulfilled the 
law. Love is the highest law and the miracle- 
worker of the world. There is no real success pos- 
sible in any department of life apart from its con- 
trolling power. Rules are useful for smaller men, 
but love is sufficient for great men. There is no 
exception to this mighty principle in the world. 
At its throne all fame and success have been 
humble and constant worshippers. No other ele- 
ment could ever brave and conquer the storms and 
obstacles in the path to greatness and glory. 

The great composer Mozart struggled with 
poverty almost to the point of despair and to the 
end of life. He was always following up the spectre 

182 



LIFE'S LAW 

of want; he worked day and night and startled the 
world by the quality of his symphonies, operas, and 
sonatas, and yet was unable to secure medicines for 
his sick wife or necessary food for his own failing 
strength. When the audience carried him home 
they might rather have given him bread. At the 
time of his death his sorrowing wife was left with- 
out a farthing, and could not pay for his coffin. 
Some sentimental tears came, but no money. His 
funeral was one of the most pathetic scenes ever 
witnessed, because only five people were present 
besides the priest and the pall-bearers. The little 
group of mourners shivered in the rain at the 
church door. Evening was fast approaching and 
the weather was too much for the mourners, and, 
one by one, they disappeared until only the driver 
accompanied the body and carried it to the " third- 
class " graveyard. The grave-digger and one old 
woman — the official mendicant of the place — were 
the only ones there. Being told that this was only 
a band-master, she said: "Then I have no more 
money to look for to-day. Musicians are a poor 
lot. Better luck to-morrow." Then his body was 
thrust into the top of a grave already occupied by 
two paupers. This was an appropriate ending to 

183 



LIFE'S LAW 

the straining struggles of the whole life of this child 
of genius, but love had brought life to his music 
and conquered the extremity of poverty. The 
sweetest music in the world has been made under 
the touch of love out of the notes of want, and dis- 
appointment, and sorrow, and even the pangs of 
pain. Every law of success is fulfilled by love. 

This great truth has its application also to soci- 
ety. One of the demands in society which is push- 
ing its way to the front in these days is the saving 
element of service. Its sister word receives a due 
proportion of attention and emphasis until every 
vocal chord sounds it — sacrifice. Both are funda- 
mental in the uplifting of the social world. They are 
not only revolutionizing but regenerating in their 
effect. Their coming as mighty factors in our civil- 
ization has not been sudden, but the centuries have 
been their forerunners. They have more power 
to-day than ever before, and a power which carries 
the prophecy of continuance and increase. This 
sacred obligation to serve and to sacrifice is bear- 
ing down more heavily upon riches and strength, 
but there is an element in the salvation of society 
which is beneath all others and out of which every- 
thing of value and power must spring. It is the 

184 



LIFE'S LAW 

very soul, aye, more, the very seed from which sac- 
rifice and service and their kind must grow. Love is 
most powerful and lasting of all. It is fundamental. 
It is the one force which is essentially elemental. It 
carries the germ of all real life-giving factors in 
society. It is the destroyer of enmity, the creator 
of harmony, the preserver of the individual in his 
society, and the author of a society of individuals. 
It has the power to transform competition into co- 
operation and to force exception to the reigning 
rule of the survival of the fittest. The ideal is the 
brotherhood of love, under the fatherhood of God. 
Two great laws in which all others are included 
are love for God and love for man, but it is possible 
to condense all law still more and make one word 
of it. Love for God demands love for man, and 
there can be no love for man without love for God; 
dropped into the crucible again, the pure gold is 
brought out and called " Love." He who desires 
to do good in the world must begin with love for 
humanity born of love for God. Discord is driven 
away under this dominant note. Separation is 
bridged by this spirit. The sunshine of love makes 
most fragrant and snow-white lilies to grow out of 
the swamps of the world. Our century is not mak- 

185 



LIFE'S LAW 

ing its triumphal march because of education, or 
the victories of war, or invention, or investigation, 
or the material implements in civilization, but in 
the binding of men and nations together by the 
bonds of love. In this is rejoicing, and hope, and 
peace, and prosperity. Love will break the imple- 
ments of war, and tear down jails, and silence quar- 
rel, and usher in the glad day of universal brother- 
hood. 

The home is at the foundation of society, and love 
is the only thing which makes any home of earth 
beautiful and attractive. Money fails where love 
succeeds. The greatest factor in the life of the 
home is love, not the rod. The engine-room of 
every factory should be in the human heart. The 
upward march must be toward love, and that is the 
characteristic of our present civilizing agencies and 
movements. Popular discontent and turmoil can- 
not be overcome by culture, or refinement, or edu- 
cation, or even philanthropy. There is only one 
remedy; the Sermon on the Mount, and the Golden 
Rule, and the sum of all the commandments — - 
brought with living force into the every-day activi- 
ties, and difficulties, and competitions, and struggles 
of life. The want of power on the part of the com- 

186 



LIFE'S LAW 

mon people to see the beauty in life and the world, 
and to discover the charm of the simplest things 
is not an important factor in the solution of the 
burning problems of society. The word culture 
is written too large. Poverty and riches will al- 
ways exist side by side in their every relation to 
each other as long as the world and human nature 
are as they now stand. The improvement lies in 
the relation to each other. The secret of content- 
ment and happiness is in the sacrifice and service of 
love. The culture that society needs at top, and 
bottom, and all the way through is the culture of 
love. The disease of the heart is not cured by 
surface treatment. The cause must be fearlessly 
faced and understood and removed. Superior cul- 
tivation has often been famous for immorality. In- 
telligence has often increased tyranny. There is a 
more subtle element essential for the betterment of 
human conditions, and the establishment of peace, 
than fine arts, or aesthetics, or literature. He is a 
dreamer who suggests it, and is asleep to the real 
condition of the thousands within touch of the star- 
vation point. Love alone meets the demand with 
reason and courage. The pathway to usefulness 
lies up the slope and by the cross. There is an 

187 



LIFE'S LAW 

evangel of dying love which secures for society that 
which no other element can furnish. No relief was 
ever given to the poor except the relief of love. 
No enmity was ever effectually destroyed except 
by the hand of love. No sorrow was ever lessened 
or burden lightened except by love. 

That which is unquestionably true of success and 
society is also true of salvation. The divine Saviour 
of men was willing to rest the whole future of His 
kingdom upon one simple word. It was not a 
question of creed, or pledge, or law. It was the one 
demand of personal love. The only security He 
asked of His disciples was the security of their love. 
A deathless love would conquer all opposition. 
" Lovest thou Me," revealed the whole future. 
Peter might break a promise when he faced a jail 
door or a cross, but he never could break with 
love. In that was the certainty of service, and 
sacrifice, and ultimate victory. When was genuine 
love ever conquered? Never! The armies of the 
world could vanquish an army of Peter's with 
drawn swords, but all the military forces in the 
kingdoms of earth could not overcome the love in 
a single soul. What supreme wisdom in the Christ 
to understand this deep secret and move contrary 

188 



LIFE'S LAW 

to all the powers of the world! Simple love was to 
save the apostles and to save their world. Its 
triumphant march has not disappointed the heart 
of the Christ. Systems of theology, elaborate or- 
ganizations, magnificent buildings, perfect meth- 
ods, are all artificial. The controlling power of the 
attachment of personal love to a personal repre- 
sentative of God's goodness and holiness and per- 
fection. Man can be made perfect only in the sim- 
plicity and naturalness of this method. Perfect 
love, perfectly lived, is the secret. It is not mys- 
tery. It is revelation easily understood and made 
clearer by a thousand illustrations. This impulse 
in the heart of man was called by Christ a new 
commandment. It found its novelty in being a 
spirit which worked from within, and forced men 
to cross oceans, and climb mountains, and brave 
dangers, and face death, to give and spend of self 
for the sake of others. In the early hours of this 
new history, as the heroes were slain by cruel hands, 
other heroes instantly arose to take their place, and 
startled the old historians into momentary par- 
alysis. The pen refused to make its way through 
such astounding mystery. They could not discover 
laws which demanded such obedience. They 

189 



LIFE'S LAW 

learned that obedience was now trusted to a prin- 
ciple, to the very substance of life itself. Love was 
the fulfilment of their law. It was not hindered in 
its manifestation even by unworthiness. The pure 
love of the founder of Christianity which came to 
save sinners was the conquering impulse in His fol- 
lowers. It was the spectacle of love's descent. It 
descends without defilement. It is the only preser- 
vation from the impurity of the world and the with- 
ering forces about the heart, from the shrivelling and 
benumbing environment into which we are thrust. 
Christianity is the only religion based on love. It 
encircles every moral obligation and every path of 
duty. The law is not destroyed, but dignified and 
exalted. It is not a religion of fear, or idolatry, or 
pharisaism. The only question over the doorway 
to the Church of Christ is, " Lovest thou the Son 
of God? " That is profound, and sweeping, and all- 
inclusive. Creed is partial and unjust, and does not 
carry everything essential. It may even be outside 
of any relation to the heart. There are few formu- 
lated theologies, but many Christians. Love is 
prophetic insight, and sympathetic touch and un- 
broken relation with everything pure, and true, and 

190 



LIFE'S LAW 

lovely. Answer that question honestly and you 
have answered all. 

The heart has now unveiled its secret, and that is 
the essence of religion. That forced the cry from the 
lips of Matthew Henry, " I would count it a greater 
happiness to gain one soul to Christ than moun- 
tains of silver and gold to myself." Th^t holy im- 
pulse made John Knox agonize in prayer, " Oh, 
God, give me Scotland, or I die." It was said that 
every word of some of Webster's great speeches 
weighed pounds, but every word of love's expres- 
sion can never be balanced upon human scales. 
Richard Sheridan said, " I go to hear Rowland Hill 
because his heart is red-hot with love." Dr. John 
Mason declared that the secret of Chalmer's success 
was the blood-earnestness of his heart. The Chinese 
convert knew what would save the heathen world 
when he said, " We want men with red-hot hearts 
to tell us of the love of Christ." 

" Go consult the Wiseacres," some one said to 
the young man who was anxious to make his life 
tell most for good. 

Solomon Wiseacre — they called him " Uncle 
Sol " familiarly — said: " Young man, sharpen your 
wits so that you won't dare to draw your finger 

igi 



LIFE'S LAW 

across the edge. Then you'll cut your way through 
the knottiest problems. Brains rule in this world." 

The young man held his wits on the college 
grindstone for four years until they were as keen 
and polished as a Damascus blade. But with all 
his vigor of intellectual grasp on the truth, some- 
thing seemed lacking. Men admired the truth he 
so clearly presented, but did not give a quick and 
hearty response to its demands. So he came back 
to his advisers. 

The second Wiseacre, Jehu — better known as 
" Uncle Hustler" — spoke: " What you need is 
more energy. It is the men of tremendous vitality, 
the men who can push their purposes hard, that 
control other men. Earnestness is the watchword. 
Go back and try hustling." 

Then the young man went at it like a steam- 
engine. He would win success by sheer force of 
personality. But, while this accomplished more 
than his clear-cut logic, yet people seemed to be 
drawn after him rather than after the truth. He 
still craved the power that would enable him to 
get close to them and touch their lives for good. 
So again he sought the Wiseacres. 

This time it was Charity Wiseacre who spoke. 

192 



LIFE'S LAW 

" My dear fellow, sit down and cross your right 
leg over your left knee. Now tell me what makes 
your right foot jump so every second. It is the 
power of heart-throbs; and that is the power that 
moves the world. It was not the keenness of Jesus' 
intellect, though none, surely, could boast a keener; 
nor was it the intense power of his unique person- 
ality that moved and still moves the multitudes, so 
much as the fact that he himself was moved with 
compassion for them. Go out and try heart-power, 
my boy." 

The thought of his Master stirred the heart of 
the young worker with a profound, pitying love for 
men, and when he saw them again it was as though 
a new pair of eyes had been given him. There 
was something in them that appealed to his sym- 
pathies, and they began to draw to him as to a 
magnet. " Surely," said he to himself, " not intel- 
lect, nor push, but love, is the greatest thing in the 
world." 

When Cromwell was to undertake the difficult 
task of conquering England for God and the people 
by destroying tyranny and dethroning the unright- 
eous king, he went to Parliament and said: " I want 
no more of this army. I want some few men who 

193 



LIFE'S LAW 

make a conscience of what they do. I want some 
few men who are conscientious enough to perform 
their duties from motives of the heart. I want men 
who love God; not men who love Him a little, but 
they who love Him much." He demanded that 
these men be examined as to whether they loted 
God or not, and when they found a man ready to 
face death because of his love for God and human- 
ity, they placed him in the ranks. He was greatly 
outnumbered by his opponents, but he established 
the liberty of England. Love wrought the mighty 
miracle. Washington was asked by General Lee 
if he had the least idea that he would be able to 
hold out against England. Lee was in favor of 
giving up the cause and of appointing commis- 
sioners between the English army and Washing- 
ton, but Washington said, " Not while the Ameri- 
cans love their army." This was the creator of 
their astonishing bravery, and true bravery can 
never be defeated. The snows and hardships of the 
severest winter could not thwart the holy purpose 
of love. Napoleon's soldiers, it is said, loved their 
cannon and called them by the sweet names of their 
mothers, and wives, and lovers. They regarded 
them as their protectors, and would even kiss them. 

194 



LIFE'S LAW 

They carried them as tenderly as a child through 
the snows and over the dangers of the Alps, and 
when they reached the border-line of that perilous 
campaign, Napoleon said to one of his generals, 
" While these men love their cannon like that, we 
can safely put them in the front ranks. " No one of 
these cannon was ever captured by the enemy. 
Love, even for these material things, could not be 
defeated. This is the mighty force which is estab- 
lishing the kingdom of God in the earth. It has 
taken on a new meaning and a new power. It 
leads the missionaries and heralds of the cross into 
the darkest heathenism, and the greatest sacrifice, 
and certain peril, and almost inevitable death. 
Fevers, and wild beasts, and blood-thirsty natives 
cannot frighten the followers of love's supreme 
illustration. Thousands of martyrs have given 
their dying testimony to its resistless power. They 
can fasten the two Scottish women to the stakes 
which stand between the high and low water-mark. 
The advancing tide passes over the elder woman's 
head without forcing her to renounce her love for 
Christ. The sight was beyond description, but the 
courage of the survivor never failed. She sang of 
her love until the water choked her, when she was 

195 



LIFE'S LAW 

released and given a last chance to yield, but 
true to a never-dying love, she refused, and was 
drowned. 

" From the crowd 
A woman's cry, a very bitter cry, dinna ye drown, 
Gie in, gie in, my bairnie; gie in and tak' the oath." 

And still the tide flowed in and drove the people 
back and silenced them. She sang the Psalm, " To 
Thee I lift my soul; " the tide flowed in, and rising 
to her waist, " To Thee, my God, I lift my soul/' 
she sang; the tide flowed in, and rising to her 
throat, she sang no more, but lifted up her face, 

" And there was glory over all the sky, 
And there was glory over all the sea, 

A flood of glory. 
And the lifted face swam in it 
Until it bowed beneath the flood, 
And Scotland's noble martyr went to God." 

The pages of history are crowded with illustra- 
tions of love's power as wonderful and sublime as 
that. All things fail and fall, but love never fails 
and never dies. The world may burn into a cinder, 
and the stars fall from their settings, and the whole 
universe become disorder and ruin, and love will 

196 



LIFE'S LAW 

still be upon the highest throne in perfect security. 
Love has eternity in it. 

The secret of Christianity is that love is the 
maker of character, and we come to be like that 
which we love. The law is as stringent and as 
binding as the law of gravity. Most men love 
goodness in order to be good. Christ is the mani- 
festation of perfect goodness, and to love Him is 
the transformation of character. Our relation to 
Him is the index of our present state and the 
prophecy of our future. Love is the author of pur- 
pose, and energy, and devotion, and obedience. 

" If a man love Me," and every man can finish 
the sentence. It is inevitable. If Peter loves there 
need be no anxiety about the lambs and sheep. All 
the graces and activities follow this leadership. 
" Love is the seraph, and faith and hope are but 
the wings by which it flies." Love in this world 
never reaches its best in beauty or fruitage. The 
seasons are too short. There is too much frost in 
the spring, and the leaves wither early in the 
autumn. It is dwarfed and stunted, but there is a 
promise of another season after the world's winter. 
The life is in the root. It will blossom and bear 
fruit in the garden of God. Preserve and care for 

197 



LIFE'S LAW 

the root, even though it may seem lifeless and use- 
less. It is life's richest possession. Treasure it and 
beautify it, and see the stamp of eternity upon it. 
Go to the manger and whisper it. Enter the car- 
penter-shop and write it upon the bench. Pause 
under the olive-trees, and read it in the crimson 
marks. Stand at the foot of the cross and behold 
the four letters in the blood of the Saviour of the 
world, one at the top, one at the bottom, one upon 
the right hand, and one upon the left, — L-O-V-E. 

198 



Then welcome each rebuff 
Thai turns earth? s smoothness rough, 
Each sting that bids, not sit nor stand, but go. 
Be our joys three parts pain 
Strive and hold cheap the strain 

Learn nor account the pang ; dare never grudge the throe. 

— Browning. 

Here bring your wounded hearts 

Here tell your anguish ; 

Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot heal. 

— Moore. 

Now let us thank the Eternal Power convinced 
That Heaven but tries our virtues by affliction. 
That oft the cloud which wraps the present hour 
Serves but to brighten all our future days. 

— John Brown. 
The good things which belong to prosperity are to be 
wished, but the good things that belong to adversity are to be 
admired. — Socrates. 

Prosperity is not without many fears and disappointments ; 
and adversity is not without comforts and hopes. — Baker. 

Sweet are the uses of adversity 

Which like the toad, ugly and venomous, 

Wears yet a precious jewel in his head. 

—Shakespeare. 



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VIII 
LIFE'S PAIN 

The king of dramatists wrote the Book of Job, 
and brought it to the last act like a master of his 
art. The hero of the tale does not rise to the elo- 
quence of his God, but comes at last to a whisper. 
Glory encircles the result of his intense suffering 
and silences the cry of pain, when he humbly smites 
his breast and says, " I know that Thou canst do 
everything." It may be whisper and muffled tone, 
but that is the eloquence of religion; that is the 
answer to every pang of pain; that is harmonious 
music on the repaired chords of the soul. A right 
view of God is essential to a right understanding 
of life. He can do everything, but the impulse is 
eternal love. God is Almighty, but it is the al- 
mightiness of love. This is the conclusion of experi- 
mental religion, and not of intellectual religion. 
This is the wrought-iron which cannot be broken. 

200 



LIFE'S PAIN 

This great truth is elemental in the solution of the 
problem of pain. 

A celebrated artist painted Napoleon crossing 
the Alps; it was very beautifully and skilfully exe- 
cuted, and won for him the highest praise from the 
public. Napoleon was seated on a fine white horse, 
which proudly pranced along with head erect and 
with dilated nostrils, while the soldiers had bright 
uniforms and their muskets and cannon shone and 
glittered as if on dress parade. Napoleon, when 
shown the picture, remarked about the beauty of it, 
but said: " It does not tell the truth, for instead of 
riding a white horse, I sat on a mule, and the sol- 
diers' uniforms, cannon, and musketry were soiled, 
torn, broken, and altogether they presented a most 
deplorable condition." The painter had sacrificed 
truth for beauty. 

Pain is one o.f the chief elements in the composi- 
tion of human life. We must not sacrifice the fact 
for the sake of desire. Facts are stubborn things, 
but wisdom and heroism never ignore them. The 
fact of human pain is ever before us the most stub- 
born. We cannot deny it. To attempt such folly 
is neither philosophy nor religion. There is no 
victory in denial of man's sorrows in life's economy. 

201 



LIFE'S PAIN 

Sufferings are real, and ten thousand witnesses 
agree together. The pallid face, the tottering step, 
the weakening shoulder, the wrinkled brow, the 
contorted limb, the blind eye, and palsied hand bear 
unchallenged testimony. The heart's pain is car- 
ried in every expression and motion. It is the science 
of a madman to question the stern reality. As man 
goes up toward kingship he goes toward the possi- 
bility of pain. As sensitiveness increases, capacity 
to suffer increases. The lower the animal life the 
less of pain until it reaches the vanishing point, 
while in man it attains its full strength. In the 
highest and most cultivated nature is found the 
climax of ability to suffer. As manhood increases, 
this possibility augments. He stands at the sum- 
mit of the animal creation and his mechanism of 
nerves subjects him to the greatest ravages of dis- 
ease and sorrow. One of the penalties of getting 
nearer to God is susceptibility to pain. Pain has 
enveloped some lives and, apparently, left them 
without the brightness of a single gleam of hope. 
Cloud after cloud, and the whole horizon covered. 
Pain, through heredity, and accident, and igno- 
rance, and strain, and even self-sacrifice, has been 
their birthright. Physical suffering, intellectual suf- 

202 



LIFE'S PAIN 

fering, and heartache to the breaking point. Affec- 
tions strained and mind worried within a house 
falling to pieces. 

There are so many sources and springs of pain 
in human life. Even society gives the earnest and 
sympathetic man moments of deepest suffering. He 
appropriates its sorrows unto himself. He bears the 
burdens of others according to the highest law of 
the world. Poverty, and distress, and crime are 
messengers from his world carrying pain to his life. 
Even the home is a channel of sorrow as well as 
of joy. If happiness is increased in the sanctity 
of a good home, the possibility of sorrow increases 
in the same ratio. You can purchase love only at the 
hand of possible pain. Within the circle of the fire- 
side stands the shadow of accident, and loss, and 
suffering, and death. Years may pass by under the 
brightness of a clear sky. The circle of the family 
is unbroken and death is such a stranger that he 
seems to be unreal, because unknown; but some 
bright day the sky darkens and the clouds are trans- 
formed into his black chariot, and his destination is 
that home. The charmed circle is broken. Changes 
are many, and startling, and rapid now in the family 
record. The joy of the house is silenced, and the 

203 



LIFE'S PAIN 

colors of the wardrobe are changed. The romp of 
the children is no longer heard, and life is a blank 
without them. Oh! the pangs of pain at the 
thought of the little grave; the tops, and strings, 
and dolls stored away forever. No pain on earth 
like that pain; it cuts the deepest and last the long- 
est. There is no sound so sweet but the screw 
of the casket grates through it. Human pain, 
poignant and piercing, is destined in some form to 
reach all men. Hopes withered, cradles emptied, 
friendships fractured, resources vanished, health 
broken, ideals unrealized, ambitions shattered, all 
enter into the catalogue of the methods of pain; so 
hard, so stern, so relentless, so severe. Many mem- 
bers of the human family have not seen a well day 
throughout life. They have worn a path in the 
carpet from the couch and the chair to the medi- 
cine-closet. The most familiar words in their vo- 
cabulary are bottle, and draught, and spoon, and 
glass, and powder, and pill; backache, headache, 
sideache, heartache are the closest companions of 
most men and women. The hardest battle is 
against ill temper and irritability born of disease. 
The whole road seems to be filled with obstacles 
and the air charged with exhaustion. Digestion, 

204 



LIFE'S PAIN 

and respiration, and motion are all on the up-grade 
and there are stones on the track. 

There are also the pains of poverty and the con- 
stant cry of cut down, abridge, deny, privation, 
give up, less, until every cup in the pantry is a cup 
of bitterness. Appearances must be kept up and 
reality covered up with a smile, but, oh! what a 
fierce effort to secure this result and manage the 
finances of an ordinary home! The out-goings 
overbalancing the income and pushing the honest 
heart into anxiety. These conditions rise up like 
ghosts to frighten, and make the daytime a mid- 
night and the life a nightmare. The doctor's bill, 
and grocer's bill, and the whole host of these ene- 
mies of peace crowd about a human being and peck 
at his poor body like a foul bird with the sharp 
point of a bill. 

Poverty made Shakespeare hold horses at the 
theatre door before it would permit him to write 
the immortal " Hamlet." It made Homer suffer 
want as he wandered on the shores of Greece before 
he could sing the " Iliad." It made Chantry, the 
sculptor, drive a donkey with milk-cans on its back 
before he carved beauty into the stone. It forced 
Poussin to paint sign-boards on the road to Paris 

205 



LIFE'S PAIN 

before they hung his pictures on the gallery walls 
of Paris. There is pain in some form and some 
degree in every life. 

There is a gravel in almost every shoe. An 
Arabian legend says that there was a worm in Solo- 
mon's staff, gnawing its strength away; and there is 
a weak spot in every earthly support upon which a 
man leans. King George of England forgot all the 
grandeurs of his throne because, one day, in an in- 
terview, Beau Brummel called him by his first 
name, and addressed him as a servant, crying, 
" George, ring the bell! " Miss Langdon, honored 
all the world over for her poetic genius, is so wor- 
ried over the evil reports set afloat regarding her 
that she is found dead, with an empty bottle of 
prussic acid in her hand. Goldsmith said that his 
life was a wretched being, and that all that want 
and contempt could bring to it had been brought, 
and cries out, " What, then, is there formidable 
in a jail?" Correggio's fine painting is hung up 
for a tavern sign. Hogarth cannot sell his best 
painting except through a raffle. Andrew Delsart 
makes the great fresco in the Church of the An- 
nunciata, at Florence, and gets for pay a sack of 
corn. 

206 



LIFE'S PAIN 

For this problem of pain nature furnishes no 
answer. It is cold and unsympathetic, and gives to 
the nerve and the tree the same conditions and the 
same care. Neither is logic an angel to lead us out 
of the darkness. There must be a moral secret un- 
der the whole programme and movement of life. 
In one of the German picture galleries is a painting 
called " Cloud-Land." It hangs at the end of a 
long gallery, and, at first sight, it looks like a great 
daub of confused color with neither form nor 
beauty, but, as you walk toward the picture, it be- 
gins to take shape to itself. A mass of exquisite 
little cherub faces is discovered. If you come close 
to the picture an innumerable company of little 
angels and cherubim is seen. The clouds of pain 
are transformed into angel faces by a nearer and 
better vision. There is a higher meaning in pain 
to be discovered. There is a divine philosophy un- 
derneath all suffering. Wherever it exists sin also 
exists. The cause and explanation for which men 
seek may lie remote from the real organ of disease. 
All pain, and suffering, and tears flow from the one 
fountain whose eternal name is " Sin." 

Pain is causal, not casual. It is not accidental, 
but necessary. It should never be regarded in any 

207 



LIFE'S PAIN 

other light than a part of the divine plan. It is 
from the laboratory of the great Physician, and is 
medicine for the soul's health, but it is medicinal 
and healing only when taken from the hand 
of God and according to His own prescription; not 
when swallowed with a boldness which is only brute 
courage. Why not make this world free from all 
pain? Why not keep men eternal strangers to 
aches? Why not have the family all remain to- 
gether, and the family record tell the story only of 
births and marriages, but not deaths? Why the 
grave, the thorn, the storm, the cloud, the strug- 
gle? Suffering is a part of the divine idea. All our 
faculties are subjects of pain as well as pleasure. 
It is a twofold nature we possess, but both parts 
are divine. Pain is an arrow from the bow of 
God, not to kill, but to warn. God answers our 
prayers for character by placing us on the anvil. 
The sound of the hammer precedes the shaping into 
higher things. The violinist does not destroy the 
instrument when he screws up the key. It is not 
to break the chord, but to make it sound the con- 
cert-pitch. The child of God is not punished with 
pain. That looks toward law. God's dealings with 
His children look toward growth, character, and 

208 



LIFE'S PAIN 

culture. A child is not a criminal. His suffering 
has no relation to violated law. It has a vital rela- 
tion to character. The desire is not simply to reach 
heaven. Blessedness is higher than happiness by 
the whole diameter of heaven. Blessedness is the 
result of holiness. That is the highest heaven; that 
is the objective point in pain. It is an easy admis- 
sion to declare that God is infinite and man is finite, 
but it is not a part of metaphysics or theology sim- 
ply when a man has been driven into it and speaks 
with the force of experience and a united life. He 
looks into a Father's face and recognizes suffering 
as a bright angel on his holy errand of mercy and 
blessing. He receives it as a seal of sonship. If 
pain overtakes him in his deepest religious service 
and strikes him down when he is on his way to 
heaven, he can say this is the divine means to en- 
large manhood and restore kingliness and God- 
likeness. Most men have never learned the profound 
truth that to live is better than to have. The world 
is shouting with the hollow sound of wasted life 
and broken logic, " Not to have is not to live." It 
is a difficult task to keep the soul and body at an 
equal height: "How hardly shall they that have 

riches enter into the kingdom of heaven." The 

209 



LIFE'S PAIN 

descendants of Jeshurun are not outside of the law 
of heredity. They still kick when they wax fat. It 
is a fatal mistake to suppose that circumstances are 
of more consequence than life. Pain is the teacher 
in life's school, and insists that the pupil shall learn 
his lesson, and chastises him when necessary. Pain 
is the guardian angel which stands by the side of 
bruises and cuts and says, " Come not here." It is 
a preventive and cautionary element in life. It 
furnishes the note of warning at the critical mo- 
ment. Anguish follows disobedience for the 
sublimest purpose. Death stalks in the path and 
pain throws in his skeleton face the light so that 
men may flee from excess and sin. It is a perilous 
roadway over which we make the journey of life, 
and suffering reveals the precipices and chasms and 
lovingly places a fence at the edge. This is the 
meaning of thorns pricking, and nettles stinging, 
and hedges scratching. If man is to graduate into 
heaven and happiness he must pass through the 
school and learn of the appointed teachers. The 
goal is only reached by the pathway of sorrow. The 
upward way is the way of adversity. Every crown- 
ing point is some Calvary. Character and manhood 
are the resultant of suffering and pain. Iron is less 

2IO 



LIFE'S PAIN 

valuable than steel, but steel is only iron pushed 
through the fire. Trees gather their toughness 
out of the storms and winds. Manhood stands in 
another forest, but under a similar law. Interpret 
the meaning of suffering and you discover God's 
goodness. Mercy is in the thorn as well as the 
rose. 

" Some time, when all life's lessons have been learned, 
And sun and stars forevermore have set, 
The things which our weak judgments here have spurned, 
The things o'er which we grieved with lashes wet, 
Will flash befo- * us out of life's dark night, 
As stars shine most in deeper tints of blue; 
And we shall see how all God's plans are right, 
And how what seemed reproof was love most true." 

We read God's sentences best when we read them 
through our tears. A tear is a telescope through 
which we see the distant and hidden stars. Time is 
required for many an explanation. We cannot 
speak fairly about a friend in a moment in which 
he has caused us grief or anxiety. Let a man speak 
who has passed the sorrow and seen something of 
its purpose. The moment of anguish should be the 
moment of silence. Wait; in the calm of the eve- 
ning thought and feeling are vastly different from 

211 



LIFE'S PAIN 

the conditions of the heat at noon-tide. The cir- 
cumstances of life and feelings of the heart are all 
changed by the shifting scenes of time. The ques- 
tions are temporary which we thrust in the face of 
our trials. If the whole explanation lay within the 
narrow circle of man's drawing no argument can 
vindicate the larger part of life, but our pencils 
draw lines too short and mark the circumference of 
a small circle. The lines of God's map and the great 
sweep of God's eternity are essential to right judg- 
ment. We are too far away from some things to 
see them as they are. There are no mountains on 
the moon to naked vision, but nearness would re- 
veal lofty peaks and deepest canons. We need the 
astronomer's view of life. If the enemy thrust his 
sword of questioning and complaint at the heart 
and threaten the very life, slay him with the sharp- 
ened blade of time. In the next hour, or next year, 
or even beyond the grave, miracles and revolutions 
are to be wrought. Give God all the time He asks. 
If you fail in this you will be drowned under the 
cataract of question and be mangled in the whirl- 
pool of unbelief. The eye can see the sapphire glory 
of the summer sky, but the hand cannot spoil or 
stain this fair revelation of God's infinity. But as 

212 



LIFE'S PAIN 

the hand has its limit, so the eye cannot pierce its 
boundary line. Our vision is limited. Our throats 
are stuffed with unanswered prayers and skeptical 
questions because of short-sightedness and im- 
patience. The best elements in character are often- 
times secured by circular processes. It may seem 
a roundabout way, but God is after the result. If 
we could, by imagining ourselves good, secure 
goodness, this would be an easy method, but there 
is another process. We must all go through the 
mill. The green field of the springtime, with its 
violent border, is brought into ruin by the cruel 
plough. It appears as the work of a despoiler, but, 
in God's economy, it is the first step toward the 
golden harvest of autumn-time. 

The owner of one of the finest diamonds in the 
world brought it to one of the most skilful cutters; 
a small black spot marred its beauty. He wanted 
this cut out, and waited for the decision of the artist 
whose skill and years gave him wisdom and right 
of decision. He examined it and said: " The spot 
lies in the girdle of the stone. If you wish perfect 
proportion, and brilliancy, and color, I must de- 
crease the size." So he set his emery wheels to 

213 



LIFE'S PAIN 

grinding it. It was decreased, but now it gleams 
a rare and perfect gem of faultless radiance. 

The whirling, grinding wheels of pain produce 
the diamonds of character. This is true, not only 
of a man's life but the life of the world. Under the 
present conditions there can neither be character 
nor civilization without pain. The battlefields, and 
blazing fagots, and flowing blood are the sources 
of liberty, and light, and salvation. The present 
is the child born in the travail and sorrow of the 
past. " That ye might be partakers of His holi- 
ness," is forever the divine purpose. A man's 
fortune may be in his pain and not in his posses- 
sions. 

Sorrow made Bunyan a dreamer; and O'Connell 
an orator; and Bishop Hall a preacher; and Have- 
lock a hero; and Kitto an encyclopaedist. The pit 
was Joseph's pathway to a throne, and the lion's 
den separated Daniel from the sceptre. The break- 
ers of Melita were Paul's benefactors and the fire 
was Polycarp's refiner. Angelo saw the block of 
rough stone, but he saw the angel, and his hammer 
and chisel struck hard and deep until the angel ap- 
peared. The angels of faith, and hope, and love, 
and peace, and patience, and service are all the re- 

214 



LIFE'S PAIN 

suit of the chisel in the hand of the Great Artist. 
The sweetest notes of music are drawn from the 
keys by the hand which has first swept the 
keys of sorrow. Its touch is seen in the grandest 
painting, its charm is heard in the sweetest song, 
and its power is recognized in the deepest thought. 
The great poets, and painters, and orators, and his- 
torians, and heroes of the world have been crippled, 
and thwarted, and hindered all along the pathway 
toward the goal. 

Demosthenes, by patience and effort almost su- 
perhuman, conquered the lisp in his speech before 
he reached the summit of human eloquence. 
Stewart, the great painter, did his best work in 
a dungeon where he was unjustly imprisoned. 
Lord Byron and Sir Walter Scott limped through 
life on club-feet. Lord Bacon was always in the 
shackles of sickness. Alexander Pope was so much 
of an invalid that he had to be sewed up every 
morning in rough canvas in order to stand on his 
feet at all. John Milton was blind, and Homer was 
blind, and Ossian was blind, and Prescott, who 
wrote " The Conquest of Mexico," never saw the 
paper on which he was writing. They placed a 
framework across the sheet through which the 

215 



LIFE'S PAIN 

immortal pen moved up and down. Payson was 
an invalid, and Baxter was an invalid, and Ruther- 
ford was an invalid, but they all suffered other tor- 
tures than those which were purely physical. Dante 
failed as a statesman before he wrote his divine 
comedy. Luther suffered failure before he experi- 
enced any triumph. For many years after Shakes- 
peare's death his work was so little appreciated that 
in 1666 there was only one edition of his works, 
and that of only three hundred copies in existence, 
and that edition was nearly all burned in the great 
London fire, but forty-eight copies had been sold 
out of the city, and those forty-eight copies saved 
Shakespeare. 

Broken in health, in bitter poverty, Elias Howe 
sat by his young wife one day in their dismal lodg- 
ing, not knowing from whence the next meal was 
to come. As his wife sewed, suddenly the idea came 
to him, what a saving of time and strength there 
would be if a machine could do the work of her 
fingers. 

He went to work at once. In six months he 
completed his first machine, which was about a 
foot and a half high; but the tailors in Boston, to 
whom he showed his model, laughed at it, or were 

216 



LIFE'S PAIN 

afraid of it. Not discouraged by obstacles of every 
sort, he finally took steerage passage for England, 
cooking his own food on the way. In England he 
gave the use of the machine to a London capitalist, 
who turned him out as soon as he had learned to 
use it. 

Still undismayed, Howe pawned most of his 
clothing for a supply of beans that barely kept soul 
and body together, and again he spent four months 
in making a machine, which he sold for twenty-five 
dollars. Finally in poverty so severe that he drew 
his baggage in a handcart to the vessel in which 
he had secured his passage by engaging as steerage 
cook, he returned to America. On landing in New 
York he was overwhelmed by the news that his 
wife was dying in Cambridge. He had not money 
enough to go to her, but earned it in a machine- 
shop, and reached the one friend who had waited 
and longed for his coming only a little while before 
she died. And then he had to borrow a suit of 
clothes in which to follow her to the grave. 

The best trees in the orchard have been pruned. 
The grass on the lawn never looks so beautiful in 
its emerald glory as when the mower has just 
passed over it. God's mowing-machine makes 

217 



LIFE'S PAIN 

beautiful and attractive the Christian graces. All 
earth and heaven admire patience, but " it is the 
trial of your faith which worketh patience.'' No 
Paul ever wore golden slippers this side of the 
gates of pearl, and no Lincoln was ever reared in 
a king's palace. Hammer the bronze to make it 
rare and beautiful. The discipline of the human 
heart is the grandest work in which divine wisdom 
and love are now engaged. The ripest and most 
beautiful graces are grown only in the garden of 
suffering. The divine hand places the silver in the 
crucible and must hold it in the fire until he sees his 
own image reflected in it. The brightest crowns 
in heaven are for those who have maintained their 
courage and faith amid failing strength and vanish- 
ing nerve. Their heroism was not in the rush of 
excitement, or sound of clashing arms, or daring 
charge, or world's applause. A bold dash with 
martial music as its inspiration is easy in compari- 
son to the courage in face of the onslaughts of pain 
with doctor and nurse only to witness and be help- 
less. 

In this sublime endurance, even unto the end, 
was the crown of the Christ. Even He learned 
obedience through suffering. I accept the fact that 

218 



LIFE'S PAIN 

it was necessary that Christ should suffer, but 
its secret lies in the bosom of God. I know the 
word vicarious, but its meaning is in heaven's dic- 
tionary. His pains were the sharpest and keenest 
that ever forced their way into a human life. Not 
a muscle or a nerve escaped. All the griefs of the 
human family were pressed into His cup. All the 
pains of hand, or foot, or brain, or heart racked His 
sensitive body until the last cord snapped on Cal- 
vary. Christ was the world's greatest sufferer, be- 
cause He had risen highest and was the most 
sensitive and most sympathetic. 

Roll every grief of life on that sympathetic and 
experienced heart. He declared His willingness and 
anxiety to bear them for us. 

A famous surgeon had a dangerous operation 
to perform upon a child. He said to the father: 
" I cannot perform the operation unless that boy's 
whole soul shall brace him up through it. You 
must explain it to him and get his full and free 
consent, or he will die under the operation." The 
father went in, and, as best he could, told the child 
and asked if he could endure it. With blanched 
face and trembling lips the child looked up and re- 

219 



LIFE'S PAIN 

plied. " Yes, father, I can if you will stand by me 
and hold my hand." And he did. 

When under the knife, clasp the hand of divine 
love. 

220 



To go and lay life into the obedience of God as a diamond 
lays itself into the sunshine, that the mere surface brillia?icy 
may deepen, and region behind region of splendor be revealed 
below — that does not seem to come into our thought. — 
Phillips Brooks. 

Take your vase of Venice glass out of the furnace and 
strew chaff over it in its transparent heat and recover that to 
its clearness and rubied glory when the north wind has blown 
upon it, but do not strew chaff over the child fresh from 
God's presence and expect to bring the heavenly colors back 
to Him, at least in this world. — Ruskin. 

When I talked with an ardent missionary and pointed out 
to him that his creed found no support in my experience, he 
replied, "It is not so in your experience, but is so in the 
other world." I answered, " Other world? There is no 
other world. God is one and omnipresent ; here or nowhere 
is the whole fact.'' 1 — Emerson. 



221 



IX 
LIFE'S ENVIRONMENT 

There are two great laws which meet every hu- 
man being upon the very threshold of life. The 
law of heredity and the law of environment. Both 
demand instant recognition, and each carries a 
look to startle, if not to frighten. Blood and cir- 
cumstances are not ordinary words in our vocabu- 
lary. " Blood will tell," and, alas, it so often tells 
the saddest of stories. Condition and surrounding 
have such fashioning and almost fixing force that 
they complete the biography, and oftentimes write 
the last chapter of the tragic story. 

The facts are so evident that there can be no 
dispute. The greatest peril is that men carry the 
truth to an extreme and write with it that false 
word — fate. 

Open eyes are speedy discoverers in this field 
of observation. Even closed eyes learn the great 
lesson of life in the school of experience. Every 

222 



LIFE'S ENVIRONMENT 

man is acted upon and affected by that which moves 
in the circle about him each day and each moment 
of his life. Information concerning the company 
a man keeps is always information concerning the 
man himself. An associate invariably stamps him- 
self upon the life of his companion. Even a re- 
fined and cultivated nature is completely changed 
by this process. It has the power to debase the 
highest, and transform refinement, and culture 
into brutality and dissipation. A book, or a paper, 
or a picture is effectual in elevating or lowering the 
life into which it enters. No man ever walked 
through an art gallery without carrying the gallery 
away with him, and yet he was not a thief. No 
man listened to a symphony of Beethoven or a crea- 
tion of Haydn without absorbing rythm, and har- 
mony, and heaven's own music, but the trash of the 
common playhouse leaves its impress also. Light, 
sensational literature makes light and frothy char- 
acter. Solid and thoughtful reading is the author 
of noble manhood and womanhood. 

A man's mind in a book is like a sponge in the 
water. Who is not affected by the day itself? A 
cloudy, foggy world pushes its way into the soul. 
A day when the king is on his throne in the sky 

223 



LIFE'S ENVIRONMENT 

and seen in all his glory with the golden sceptre 
above the head of man forces its way into every 
word, and act, and attitude of the life. An east 
wind is not a good forerunner of smiles. It is a 
better companion of an unhealthy liver. Eyes for 
beautiful scenery are the gateways for beautiful 
thoughts and dee'ds. Who can be surrounded with 
the glory of an ideal summer evening, — the fra- 
grance of flowers never so sweet — the songs of birds 
never so musical — the sunset never so heavenly — 
the breezes never so balmy — the whole earth never 
so homelike, — without being lifted toward the 
upper world. It is so indisputably true that much 
depends upon where a man lives. He is marked by 
his dwelling-place. There are tenement men and 
cottage men. The character is widely different. 
The one wears a honeysuckle, and the other the 
faded leaf of life. Where a man was born has 
much to do with his whole career, — a cradle in the 
slums is vastly different from the cradle on the 
hillside,. and the lullaby of all nature, and the odors 
of heaven. Life is moulded and shaped by occu- 
pation. The profession a man follows is stamped 
upon him. Readers of character declare that they 

can tell a man's business by seeing him on the 

224 



LIFE'S ENVIRONMENT 

street. Not so much by the clothes he wears, as 
the features he carries, and the moves he makes, 
and the words he may chance to utter. Business 
reacts to such a degree upon character and the 
deep inner soul of life that it must be regarded as 
one of the mightiest factors in life. 

A black duck which could quack, but would not 
swim, was hatched by a hen, and the only one of 
the setting. When she saw that he was so different 
from the downy chicks of the other hens she would 
not feed or cover him, but pecked him and drove 
him away. They were compelled to take him into 
the house to save him from the fury of his foster- 
mother. Thinking that, as he was a duck, he would 
take naturally to the water, when he was a few days 
old they offered him a bath in a basin. 

But he refused to go into it, and when they put 

him in he hurried out, squawking and flapping his 

wings. When he was older the boys took him 

with them to the pond when they went swimming, 

but he would not swim or stay in the water. When 

he was out in the yard and it began to rain he 

rushed under shelter, shaking off the drops as if 

they hurt him. 

The duck lost in some way his aquatic nature. 

225 



LIFE'S ENVIRONMENT 

Was this due to its indoor raising — its environ- 
ment? 

The Bengal tiger wears the stripes of his jungle, 
and the fish in the Mammoth Cave lose their eyes 
in the darkness, and the mole which insists upon 
burrowing in the ground shuts out the light of 
clay forever. Man lives in the same world and is 
subjected to the same laws. A butcher is in the 
awful peril of becoming brutal, and the records give 
the astounding fact that a very large percentage of 
the murders committed in society are from the 
hands of the butchers. The familiar sight of blood 
and the disregard of life brings this to pass. Men 
who are employed in work of an exacting nature, de- 
manding straight lines, and perfect curves, and true 
mathematics are always men who, in other things, 
even religion, insist in the reasonableness of the 
plan and the certainty that it will fit the case ex- 
actly, and be a compliment to their lives. They 
must first see how the other half comes into place 
when pressed against the semi-circle. 

He who chooses the profession of law, or medi- 
cine, or literature, or art, or music, or enters com- 
mercial life, or learns a trade, ought not to be blind 
to the fact that he has chosen one of the greatest 

226 



LIFE'S ENVIRONMENT 

factors in his character and his destiny. That with 
which he surrounds himself enters into every drop 
of his blood, and into every part of his eternal life. 
What then? Is a man's environment that which 
makes him all that he is? After the inheritance of 
his blood does this take possession of all his life and 
his future. Some philosophers are so radical and 
extreme that they would answer " Yes." Change 
man's home, business, etc., and you change the 
man. Transform his surroundings and you trans- 
form the individual. Move him from a hovel into 
a palace, and you have done all that is necessary. 

Grass and trees, pictures and baths, are the 
revolutionizing forces. There may be blessing in 
all this, but not a power of regeneration. There is 
not new life in things. The new creation of man- 
hood demands something more than any or all of 
these externals. Where nature remains the same, 
the palace would be likely to assume the character- 
istics of the slum and the tenement. A drunkard 
or a thief would be apt to obey his appetite or ply 
his trade in one with almost as great freedom as 
in the other. 

There are men in the finest mansions with unlim- 
ited wealth who are almost as low as the animal in 

227 



LIFE'S ENVIRONMENT 

their beastliness and dissipation. There is advantage 
in the better home, but it is not the supreme saving 
force. There is great opposition in low or evil sur- 
roundings, but they are not sufficient to claim un- 
questioned power for the destruction of character 
or the triumph over success. 

There are two victorious elements in human 
life — the will of man and the power of God. Next 
to the omnipotence of God is the will of man. This 
scatters the darkness which hangs like a midnight 
in the environment of some men. This reveals the 
shining possibility of success and the crowning of 
manhood in every life. These are the hands on 
the barred gates of opportunity which push back 
the lock and swing the iron on its hinges to reveal 
the gold on the other side of the gates, and the glit- 
tering star of hope in the sky. 

None of us dare say, " I have no chance," for we 
all have the same chance that the world's greatest 
and best men have enjoyed and often a better one. 
Chances, plenty of them, fall under our eyes if we 
only have eyes to see them and hands to pick them 
up. 

Richard Awkwright, the thirteenth child, in a 
hovel, with no knowledge of letters, — an under- 

228 



LIFE'S ENVIRONMENT 

ground barber with a vixen for a wife, who smashed 
up his models and threw them out, — gave the spin- 
ning-wheel to the world and put a sceptre in Eng- 
land's right hand such as no monarch ever wielded. 

A chance remark from a peasant girl, in an ob- 
scure country district, falling upon the ear of young 
Dr. Jenner, gave to the world vaccination, which 
saves hundreds of lives annually. 

The picking up of a pin in a Paris street by a 
poor boy as he left a great bank discouraged by the 
denial of his application for a place, was the begin- 
ning of the successful career of one of the world's 
greatest bankers. That simple act, illustrative of 
the economical spirit asserting itself over present 
grief, was observed from the window. The lad was 
recalled and given a position. Industry, patience, 
and honesty did the rest. 

A pewter plate founded the great Peel family. 
Robert, in the poor country about Blackburn, with 
a large family growing up about him, felt that some 
source of income must be added to the meagre prod- 
ucts of his little farm. He began quietly conduct- 
ing experiments in calico-printing in his home. 
One day, picking up a pewter plate, from which 
one of his children had just dined, he sketched upon 

229 



LIFE'S ENVIRONMENT 

it a parsley leaf, and, filling it with coloring matter, 
found to his delight that it could be accurately- 
transferred to the cotton cloth. Here was the first 
suggestion toward calico-printing from metal roll- 
ers. This parsley leaf on the pewter plate opened 
up a world of industry to Lancashire; and Sir 
Robert Peel to this day is called in that neighbor- 
hood " Parsley Peel." 

Don't say you have no chance. Men uniformly 
overrate riches and underrate their own will; the 
former will do far less than we suppose, and the 
latter far more. 

I knew of a drunkard's son whose inherited ap- 
petite was so strong that every effort to save him 
was in vain. He was crazy for strong drink. If 
kept from it, he would rave like a madman. He 
died in a fit of delirium tremens, in early manhood. 
But I knew another drunkard's son who hated the 
very sight and smell of alcohol from his early boy- 
hood. He never could be induced to taste the in- 
toxicating cup. His radical teetotalism seemed to 
be an instinct rather than a principle, and to be 
intensified by the fact that his father had died a 
drunkard. 

Whence the difference in these two cases? In 

230 



LIFE'S ENVIRONMENT 

the former no influence was applied early to 
counteract the hereditary tendency. In the latter 
case there was a wise and loving mother. The 
motherly environment was stronger than the alco- 
holic taint. That taint was eradicated in the germ, 
before it had time to grow into a morbid appe- 
tite. 

That is not the just explanation. She was rather 
educating the boy's will ; a thousand times she 
taught him to say " No " and to hate it and reveal 
enmity to it. 

It is safe to say that not one in a thousand wrong- 
doers ever meant to do wrong, or to act meanly, but 
every one of the thousand is controlled, at times, 
by something in his nature which he has failed to 
master until it is nearly or quite impossible to do 
so. 

Some of his friends had taunted Tennyson be- 
cause he could never give up tobacco. " Anybody 
can do that," he said, " if he chooses to do it." 
When his friends still continued to doubt and tease 
him, he said, " Well, I shall give up smoking from 
to-night." He forthwith threw his pipes and to- 
bacco from the window. The next day he was 
charming, though self-righteous; the second day he 

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LIFE'S ENVIRONMENT 

became moody; the third day no one knew what 
to do with him. That night he went to the garden, 
gathered up what tobacco he could, stuffed it into 
a broken pipe, had a smoke, and regained his good 
humor, after which nothing was said about his giv- 
ing up smoking. 

Much has been said and written about the web 
of life — composed of the warp and woof of heredity 
and environment. One having the threads at right 
angles with the other, and thus both forming the 
pattern in the whole fabric. " The web of our life 
is of mingled yarn, the good and the ill together." 

Our ancestors, living and dead, stretch the warp 
from end to end in the loom of Providence or 
chance, call it which you will — it matters little — 
for this warp is crossed by the threads of environ- 
ment, and that is all. But spinning is quite as im- 
portant as threads in any web, life, or a spider's 
silken wonder. The shuttle is the human will. No 
threads cross and recross without its silent but 
sublime operation. " I will " pushes the thread and 
sends it in a chosen direction. All men who have 
become successful or who possess noble character 
know that they are the earners of their own success 
and the authors of their own character. They 

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LIFE'S ENVIRONMENT 

never hesitated or waited for " luck " or " chance " 
to drop fortune or morality at their feet as a free 
and undeserved gift. That is the plan of shallow, 
nerveless, shiftless, lazy folk. The man of energy 
and grit of purpose and determination never utters 
the folly of being a victim of fate or wastes value 
in time and strength by complaining of ill luck 
and the partiality of God. It is not happening to be 
in the right place at the right time. There is a 
pathway which always leads up to that point in life. 
There may not always be a way where there is a 
will, at least the way chosen by that will. There 
are other elements in life. There is a difference in 
talent and genius. Will power and industry can- 
not overcome nature and make a Raphael or an 
Angelo of every blacksmith, or a Beethoven out of 
every grinder of a hand-organ, or a Demosthenes 
out of a deaf and dumb boy, but it is a cause of 
amazement to the observant and thoughtful man 
how much opposition and how great a number of 
obstacles can be overcome. Some acts of men in 
this respect touch the border-line of the miracu- 
lous. There have been triumphs won over an ap- 
parently insurmountable obstacle, simply by the 
power of an indomitable will. It is the annihilator 

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LIFE'S ENVIRONMENT 

of fate. The conqueror's motto, " I will," has often 
been mocked, but it was the smooth stone and felled 
the giant. 

Idle and dawdling men do not understand this, 
and continue to murmur, but will is the jewelled 
crown upon the brow of intellect. It is the golden 
sceptre in the hand of genius. It is the king among 
the faculties and the ruler of thousands of slaves. 
Grant all the credit and honor possible to environ- 
ment in hindering temporary power and success. 
It still remains forever true that in the higher realm 
of righteousness and character the will is the mas- 
ter. 

The more trying the circumstance sometimes, 
the better the opportunity to develop true nobility. 
No man is shut out of this highest success in life. 
It is the peril of the rich and the idle to have 
abundance and not need to toil. The best of life is 
lost. This is the maker of weaklings, dwarfs, and 
paralytics in the world of manhood and woman- 
hood. In this time of sin the Graces demand for 
their life the atmosphere of denial and hardship, 
and even suffering and sorrowing. It is over all 
this that the conqueror " Will " rides and demands 
the badge of the victor. 

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LIFE'S ENVIRONMENT 

Dr. Edward Everett Hale says that when he 
'brought home his first report from the famous 
Boston Latin School, it showed that he stood only 
ninth in a class of fifteen. " Probably the other 
boys are brighter than you/' said his mother. " God 
made them so, and you cannot help that. But 
the report says you are among the boys who be- 
have well. That you can see to, and that is all I 
care about." 

It is not what a man does so much as how he 
does it which deserves note and reward. The low- 
liest task is elevated by this lever underneath it. 
Yes, it is raised to the very throne of God. Indif- 
ferent, careless, slip-shod, botched, and half-finished 
work of any kind is the degradation of life. Not 
what we do, but how we do it, is the question which 
cuts to the core of the heart, and echoes in the 
judgment. In the sample of what we do, reveals 
the secret of what we are. 

George Eliot, in " Middlemarch," was drawing 
a picture from life when she described the gradual 
collapse of Mr. Vincy's prosperity from the time he 
began to use the cheap dyes recommended by his 
sham religious brother-in-law, which were soon 
found to rot the silks for which he had once been 

235 



LIFE'S ENVIRONMENT 

so famous. On the other hand, the man who, like 
Adam Bede, always drives a nail straight and planes' 
a board true, is the one whom men employ at good 
wages, and who is the maker of his own fortune. 

The Athenian architects of the Parthenon fin- 
ished the upper side of the matchless frieze as per- 
fectly as the lower side, because the goddess 
Minerva would see that side also. An old sculptor 
said of the backs of his carvings, which were out 
of all possible chance of inspection, when re- 
monstrated with for being so particular about them, 
" But the gods will see them." 

" In the elder days of art, 
Builders wrought with greatest care, 
Each minute and unseen part, 
For the gods see every where." 

Perfect environment is not sufficient, or the Gar- 
den of Eden would not have been desecrated by sin. 
Will power is mighty to the pulling down of evil 
forces, and the building up of the good, but that 
is not all of life's necessity. 

Education even may increase the capacity for sin 
and crime. It certainly is not such a preventive as 
is generally supposed. Conscience must be de- 

236 



LIFE'S ENVIRONMENT 

veloped to correspond with the sharpening of the 
brain, or a man becomes more dangerous. " An 
ignorant thief robs a freight-car. An educated 
thief steals the whole railroad." 

The man of almost iron will, the Duke of Wel- 
lington, coming from victorious battlefields, and 
being the hero of a Waterloo, said, " If you are 
only going to educate the children, you are only 
going to make clever devils of them." He recog- 
nized the want of a more vital and regenerating 
element, something to touch the very heart of the 
man, nothing less than the presence and power of 
God. 

Almost overwhelming and yet brightest of all 
thoughts is the revelation that a human being can 
live in God. " In Him we live," before we really 
live and triumph over blood and circumstances. 
There is no more mystery about the fact of a man's 
existence in God than there is about all life. It is 
the unanswered question; the unsolved riddle. The 
greatest thought of any man is, " Life in God:" All 
other environment, good and powerful as it may 
be, is partial, and only touches the surface. There 
must be something to surround the very germ of 
life at the core of the heart. If any man is con- 

237 



LIFE'S ENVIRONMENT 

scientiously abiding in God he is master of his 
world. This element of divinity remakes the man, 
and that is better and more permanent than re- 
moving his dwelling or changing his work. What a 
false method is that which begins with the external 
in order to reform the man. The beginning must 
be with the man himself. This is not contradicting 
or destroying the law of environment. It is em- 
phasizing it and lifting it into a larger sphere. It 
simply makes God to become the whole circle about 
a man's life, and thus, his protector and Saviour. 

The history of Chosroes the blessed, the greatest 
of the Sascanian Shahs, may be instructive here. 

Through rash and inexperienced generalship his 
armies were defeated with disaster, his empire was 
invaded, his subjects were seduced into rebellion, 
and from all quarters the alien Powers of Asia came 
mustering to join his enemies and to compass his 
final overthrow. " And day by day were the 
Iranians weakened, for they were smitten with 
great slaughter, and the number of their dead was 
past counting." Then in the extremity of his dis- 
tress and humiliation the Shah sent greeting unto 
Rustem, his Pehliva, and besought him to come 
forth from his retirement and lead his army, for 

238 



LIFE'S ENVIRONMENT 

in him alone could he now put trust. And Rustem 
replies: " O Shah, since the day when mine arm 
could wield a mace I have ever fought the battles 
of Iran, and it would seem that rest may never 
come nigh unto me. Yet since I am thy slave, it 
behooveth me to obey. I am ready to do thy will." 
And with the coming of the great Pehliva the 
Iranian armies took new heart, and they overcame 
the allied hosts of Chinca, and India, and Byzan- 
tium with tremendous victory, which is known to 
this day as the Vengeance of Chosroes. 

Said Napoleon to La Place, " I see no mention 
of God in your system of theology." " No, sir;" 
was the answer, " we have no longer any need of that 
hypothesis." A half century of anarchy and social 
disorder in unhappy France was the result — the 
awful " reign of terror." How much wiser was 
Montesquiei, who said, " God is as necessary as 
freedom to the welfare of France! " 

Yes, you cannot have freedom for nation or in- 
dividual without God as its author and finisher. 
Real life finds its source in God. That is the Gospel. 
It is not a method of repair. Its process is not one 
of mending, moral or spiritual; tinkering or cob- 
bling is not salvation. The divine principle is one 

239 



LIFE'S ENVIRONMENT 

of new life, a constant environment of the life of 
God. He creates new character, new creatures 
in Christ, and keeps them there. That is the only 
possible redemption of the slums and the depths 
of society. Calvary was not an order to move. It 
was an invitation to live. Salvation is a new crea- 
tion, not a moving-van. It is the greatest miracle. 
It is God at first hand. It is the conqueror of all 
other environment. Our progress in civiliza- 
tion has been marvellous. Inventive genius has al- 
most revolutionized the world. Thirteen great in- 
ventions have been made within the last one hun- 
dred years, while in all previous human history only 
seven have been made of equal rank, and even that 
is questionable, but what avail for us if we do travel 
sixty mil£s an hour if we are not any more satisfied 
or any better when we reach the station. A stage- 
coach is just as effective for this purpose as an ex- 
press-train. If we cannot talk any better and more 
Christlike when we talk from New York to Bos- 
ton, what character value is there in it. This is one 
of the modern delusions, and even a snare. 

Amid all these achievements, and changes, and 
straining activity, and killing rush, and peril to 
sanity, there is a supreme need. That is what 

240 



LIFE'S ENVIRONMENT 

Nicodemus could not understand but experienced. 
A life with God as its environment. 

Memorable is that celebrated siege of Acre on 
the coast of Palestine. On one day they had broken 
all their swords. They had crossed their swords 
until both sides had broken every blade. They 
then voluntarily withdrew each from the other, ad- 
miring each other's bravery. Into the city went 
the besieged and secured new swords. Outside the 
city a wise old Mohammedan said: "Don't fight 
to-day nor to-morrow. I will need time to temper 
your swords." And so, with an added temper, put 
in by one flash of fire, the Mohammedans had 
swords that would bend like a Damascus blade; and 
it was impossible for the Christians to defeat them. 
The Christian blades broke as before, and the only 
reason why the Mohammedan in his chivalry won 
that battle, which entitled him to the respect of 
Christians, was because he added just a little more 
temper in the Damascus blade. 

Pause, man, just one factor will change defeat 
into victory. 

Philanthropists and moralists have no hope. All 

history is against them. Permanent victory has 

not been and cannot be the result of their work. 

241 



LIFE'S ENVIRONMENT 

The world will never be saved by philanthropy or 
surface changes. Mosquitoes infest every shady 
nook, and crocodiles are where they have perennial 
summer. Give the drunkard or his family more 
money, and you increase drunkenness. Poverty 
ought not to exist, but charity oftentimes only in- 
creases it. So far as circumstances or even the laws 
of the world are concerned, evil has just as bright 
a hope as the good. They seem to be balanced. 
Some weight must drop into the side of the scales 
called the good. That extra element in a man's 
life is God. With Him he can be master, and at 
least become like God Himself. He who lives in the 
life of God must pass through a process of trans- 
formation. In Christ all this becomes reality with 
increasing sweetness and power. 

In every human being is the germ which de- 
mands this as its environment, if it is to live, and 
grow, and become perfect. Take two seeds, and 
place one in a box on the shelf. Place the other 
into the soil, and then the sunlight, and moisture, 
and air. Any child knows the result. One shrivels 
up, and becomes worm-eaten, and dies. The other 
pushes its arms out in a hundred directions, and is 
the king of the forest for a hundred years, and lives 

242 



LIFE'S ENVIRONMENT 

in a hundred generations, and whole forests yet un- 
seen. 

Man needs God. Without Him it is death, even 
eternal death. With Him, what marvellous devel- 
opment and transformation. 

In 1832, Charles Darwin, the celebrated natural- 
ist, and, even then, renowned scientist, went around 
the world on a tour of circumnavigation, which is 
one of abiding interest. He touched at the coast 
of Tierre Del Fuego in South America. His de- 
scription of the people is one of horror. He de- 
clares he never saw such people, nor would he have 
believed they existed. They were of the very lowest 
type, and almost, if not quite, inhuman. • Their 
practices and appearance were shocking. Their 
habits were too vile and low to permit description. 
He left a line in his diary which says they were be- 
yond the reach of civilization. That was the cold 
and convincing testimony of a great naturalist, not 
a missionary, but rather a skeptic. 

In one of the ordinary days of the world, a babe 
was found lying helpless and alone, and crying in 
the streets of Bristol, without known father, or 
mother, or friend, a foundling crying in the night, 
and with no answer but a cry, until one heart list- 

243 



LIFE'S ENVIRONMENT 

ened to the call. The day on which it was found 
by a constable was St. Thomas Day, so the babe 
was named Thomas. The infant was found in a 
place between two bridges, so it was called Bridges 
— Thomas Bridges. It was lodged in an alms- 
house, and fed on public bounty, veritably a little 
pauper. 

The years brought him up into young manhood, 
and then he longed to be a missionary. There was 
one place which no one had ventured to go. The 
missionary society said he could go to the land 
which Darwin had described and declared was abso- 
lutely hopeless. It was taking his own life in his 
hands, but he went, and revealed the heroic spirit 
of the Gospel. He dared to go amongst the sav- 
ages, and live with them, and spelled out a language 
for them, and then related the story of Christ and 
His salvation. He made a translation of the Bible 
for them, and, as they read it, they were melted by 
it, and subdued, and Christianized, until Darwin, 
honest and fearless man that he was, publicly ac- 
knowledged his mistake, and gave a contribution 
to this work which had demonstrated the power of 
God in changing men and their environment. 

The English Admiralty had sent out orders that 

244 



LIFE'S ENVIRONMENT 

no ship of theirs should land on that coast. They 
now sent out orders that all ships could land there 
and trade. 

Civilization was manifest everywhere in that 
region, and a miracle of miracles was witnessed by 
all the world. Environment at first remained the 
same. God was revealed and then lived. Behold 
also the environment of the babe, an outcast in the 
street of the great city. Behold the King among 
men in Thomas Bridges, mighty on earth and 
mighty in heaven. Any man or any place can know 
the power of the divine life through the Divine 
Man. 

245 



And when the stream 
Which overflowed the soul was passed away 
A consciousness remained that it had left 
Deposited \ upon the silent shore 
Of memory, images and precious thoughts 
That shall not die and cannot be destroyed. 

— Wordsworth. 

When Time, who steals our years away, 

Shall steal our pleasures too, 

The memory of the past will stay 

And half our joys renew. 

— Moore. 

Friends depart and memory takes them 

To her caverns pure and deep. 

— Bayly. 

How cruelly sweet are the echoes that start 
When memory plays an old tune on the heart. 

— Cook. 

Oft in the stilly night 
Ere slumber'' s chain has bound me 

Fond memory brings the light 
Of other days around me. 

The smiles, the tears, 
Of boyhood 's years, 

The words of love then spoken ; 
The eyes that shone, 

Now dim and gone 
The cheerful hearts now broken. 

— Moore. 

246 



X 

LIFE'S MEMORY 

The sweet waters of memory touch the 
parched lip with refreshment and enter the veins 
of life with creative power and bring back the dis- 
turbed heart to its normal beat. Memory is one of 
the greatest factors in success and one of the most 
powerful ingredients in character. It is the benefi- 
cent hand which carries the past up to the threshold 
of the present and gives it, as a sacred offering, 
to the future. Every to-day and to-morrow has 
an unbroken relation to every yesterday. The 
golden thread of memory binds them together in 
" the bundle of life." The young, kingly minstrel 
David was hunted like a bird among the hills and 
rocks of Judea. He had just wept upon the neck 
of the faithful Jonathan, and the last effort for 
reconciliation with King Saul had failed. He 
now sought refuge in the caves of the mountains 
where he had found shelter from other storms when 

247 



LIFE'S MEMORY 

a shepherd. Then the fierce lightnings and loud 
thunders were picturesque and musical to his soul in 
touch with God. But now his loyal heart was al- 
most broken, and it fluttered like a frightened 
partridge before the sudden appearance of the 
hunter. Around him had gathered a motley crowd 
of disheartened and discontented people, but 
among that number were some mighty men of 
valor who were ready for most heroic service. They 
were chivalrous, and imperious, fleet of foot, and 
lion-like in strength. They wrought no devasta- 
tion in the country nor drew the blood of a single 
lamb, but were devoted to the commands and in- 
terests of their young captain. They were in a deso- 
late region where the eastern sun scorched every 
green thing which grew around the edge of the 
barren rocks. The retreats within the rocks were 
oppressive with heat of noon-day. In this close 
atmosphere and utter desolation the courage of 
young David's heart began to waver for a moment. 
Now behold one of the most pathetic touches in 
his whole life. His memory takes him back to his 
old home in Bethlehem, and he sees again the wav- 
ing grain-fields and purple-clustered trellises, and 
the emerald glory of the hillsides. Brightest and 

248 



LIFE'S MEMORY 

most attractive of all, his deepest desire and great- 
est need carries him back to the old well at the 
gate with its clear, sparkling, sweet water. His 
heart forces the cry: " O that one would give me 
to drink of the waters of the well of Bethlehem that 
is by the gate!" Three of his brave men, who 
heard that cry, instantly volunteered to make the 
perilous journey to the old well. They rushed 
through the burning heat, and over rocks, and even 
forced their way through the lines of the enemies' 
army. They drew the water from the favorite 
spring and carried it back to the hand of their king. 
That self-devotion was too much, and the water 
was too sacred. He must make a sacrifice of it. 
It was poured out unto their God. The memory 
was sweeter than the water itself. It was sufficient. 
In that was his greatest riches. A few drops of 
water were not the supreme requisite for strength, 
anc new determination, and certain victory. He 
drank at the fountain of the past and in that new 
life fought the battles of the future. The thought 
of the old well revived the shepherd songs and the 
music of other days echoed back into the deeps of 
his soul. Where is the man who has once stood 
at the old well and pressed his lips against the moss- 

249 



LIFE'S MEMORY 

covered oaken bucket who, in after years and in 
distant lands, and in perilous hours, has not tasted 
those waters over again? The crucible of time 
has transformed the bucket into silver; the old 
rusted tin cup into gold; and every drop of water 
into a sparkling jewel, more precious than rubies 
or diamonds. The great chasms and spans of life 
are made to shrink under the power of the heart's 
memory. The old home, and the past days, and 
the well at the gate have been inspiration for poet, 
and musician, and artist, but they have also inspired 
the music, the art, and poetry of life. These sacred 
memories have not only driven the dark clouds 
from the sky of a Tennyson, and a Whittier, and 
given birth to that hope which grasped " the far- 
off interest of tears," but the mechanic, and artisan, 
and farmer, and all men have shared in this wealth 
of the past. One of the most beautiful and familiar 
scenes in all the world is that of the old man tot- 
tering up to the spring-side and drinking from the 
same fountain at which his mother kneeled and 
gave him to drink when he was a child. These 
recollections and reminiscences make up the larger 
part of life. We are all bundles of memories. Child- 
hood memories; memories of youth; manhood 

250 



LIFE'S MEMORY 

memories; memories of pleasure and success; 
memories of victory, and sometimes defeat; memo- 
ries of exhuberant health, and sometimes weakness; 
memories of the wedding bells; memories of the 
cradle; memories of the faded cheek, and the last 
sleep of the treasure of home; memories of love 
and friendship; memories of prayer and worship; 
memories of smiles and tears; all come rushing 
into the heart and demand recognition and life. 
They cry, " I will not be forgotten; I am a part of 
thee/' All thy past is bound together in one 
bundle by cords which are none other than the 
h'eart's strings. 

The importance of this faculty in human charac- 
ter has never been justly emphasized. It is not only 
an intellectual element, but pre-eminently a 
spiritual power. This treasure-house should not be 
treated carelessly and left open for every passing 
robber. It holds that which is most valuable and 
precious. A good memory is a great blessing. A 
poor memory is worthy of cultivation. Some men 
have possessed this power to a degree which has 
created astonishment everywhere, but they have 
not always used it to the best advantage. Cyrus 
knew the name of every soldier in his great army. 

251 



LIFE'S MEMORY 

Mithridates, who had troops of twenty-two nations 
serving under his banners, became proficient in the 
language of each country, and also knew all his 
eight thousand soldiers by their right names. Ezdras 
is said by historians to have restored the sacred 
Hebrew volumes by memory; they had been de- 
stroyed by the Chaldeans, and Eusebius declares 
that it was to his sole recollection that we are in- 
debted for that part of the Bible. St. Anthony, 
the hermit, although he could not read, knew every 
line of the Scripture by heart. Lord Granville could 
repeat, from beginning to end, the New Testament 
in the original Greek. Thomas Cranmer com- 
mitted to memory in three months an entire trans- 
lation of the Bible. Bossuet could repeat not only 
the whole Bible, but all of Homer, Virgil, and 
Horace, besides many other works. Euler, the 
mathematician, could recite the ^Eneid. Leibnitz, 
when an old man, could repeat every word of 
Virgil. Themistocles could call by name every citi- 
zen of Athens, although the number amounted to 
twenty thousand. Seneca complained in his old 
age that he could not, as formerly, repeat two 
thousand names in the order in which they were 

read to him. George Third never forgot a face 

252 



LIFE'S MEMORY 

he had once seen, nor a name he had ever heard. 
Mozart possessed a wonderful memory of musical 
sounds. When only fourteen years of age he went 
to Rome to assist in the solemnities of Holy Week. 
He went to the Sistine Chapel to hear the famous 
Miserere of Allegri. It was forbidden any one to 
take a copy of this renowned piece of music. 
Mozart hid away in a corner while he gave un- 
divided attention to the music, and afterward 
wrote down the entire piece. The next day he sang 
the Miserere at a great concert and accompanied 
himself on the harpsichord. This created such a 
sensation in Rome that the Pope sent for this musi- 
cal prodigy and declared that he had performed one 
of the most marvellous things of the world. Such 
a remarkable power as this, given to all men in a 
greater or less degree, deserves the most careful at- 
tention, and development, and consecration. That 
which can bridge chasms of time and space and 
take a man back to the old well and give him to 
drink of its sweet water must be one of the most im- 
portant factors in life. Most men have never 
thought of its vital relation to character and the 
responsibility which is wedded to it. These pre- 
cious memories of life comfort the soul in trouble, 

253 



LIFE'S MEMORY 

and carry it lovingly through the darkness of trial. 
The impressive recollection of rainbows circling 
the clouds, and the glory of the sunset after the 
storm, is a mighty power in the present hours of 
trial and fierce storm. The comfort of memory is 
one of the richest of human blessings. The har- 
mony of the music may have been perfect during 
the early years of life. You stood on the threshold 
where the air was full of joy, and health, and bright- 
ness. The step was so light as to become almost 
a skip. The notes of pleasure reached their perfec- 
tion when the wedding-bells sounded your delight 
and prophesied your brilliant future. Those first 
years of marriage were wedded happiness and pros- 
perity. Like a lightning flash in clear sky the stroke 
came. It revealed the flush on your child's cheek. 
The whisper of death told the awful, heart-silencing 
secret. It forced the cry of agony, " God save my 
child." The whole world trembled and tottered, and 
seemed, in the dense bewilderment, to be passing 
out in darkness. It was the world going if that child 
must go; all the value in home, or land, or store, 
or society is gone if that jewel of love disappears. 
" Dig two graves instead of one," cries the broken 
heart. As the lights went out in the home and you 

254 



LIFE'S MEMORY 

pressed the bitter cup to your lip, the voice of ever- 
lasting comfort said to you what the world could 
not hear and could not interpret, if it did hear, and 
you turned toward the empty crib, and empty life, 
and empty heart, and sighed a deep sigh and said, 
" Even so, Father." The years cannot obliterate 
that experience or its effect. Whenever the clouds 
gather again the memory of the past forbids the 
storm to overwhelm or destroy, but commands it 
to make the life richer and more fragrant and fruit- 
ful. The first sorrow enters into the second by the 
pathway of memory, but its entrance giveth light. 
The cloud of to-day obscures all the sunlight and 
brightness of yesterday. Our present darkness al- 
most destroys the recollection of an abundance of 
light in the past. It is our common sin; yesterday's 
page was written carelessly and with pale ink. 
Under one brush of our ready hand, it disappears. 
Shame to the soul which permits this work of the 
vandal. Every Job emphasizes the ash-heap, and 
sackcloth, and points, with unceasing groan, to 
the carbuncles, while he forgets every word in the 
marvellous sentence of his past days. " His sub- 
stance also was seven thousand sheep, and three 
thousand camels, and five hundred yoke of oxen, 

255 



LIFE'S MEMORY 

and five hundred asses, and a very great household, 
so that this man was the greatest of all the men of 
the East." Satan was working with Job. This is 
a large part of Satan's work in the earth. To oblit- 
erate the light, and joy, and riches of other days. 
Blessed is the man who thaws the icicles of winter 
in the warm remembrance of the summer day. 

This recognition of past deliverance is one of the 
greatest elements of comfort in present difficulty. 
The future is fiUed with hardship, and burden, and 
peril; yes, but if the train has carried you one thou- 
sand miles safely over bridges and around curves 
and through the darkness, undoubtedly the bridges 
will be solid and the conductor awake, and the 
managers competent. Have confidence for an- 
other hundred miles at least. God has a perfect 
system. Every signal is in order. Rest in the 
memory of past safety. These experiences of by- 
gone days are the separate notes which make music 
in the soul. He is a master who gathers them into 
the bar and creates harmony. 

Ole Bull, the great violinist, was a friend of John 
Erricson. They were both brought up in the same 
part of the world, and passed their boyhood days 
together, but their occupations had made a wide 

256 



LIFE'S MEMORY 

divergence between their paths. Erricson's ma- 
chinery had silenced the music of his early life, and 
he even now refused to listen to it. Ole Bull visited 
him and was determined to make him listen to his 
violin. The inventor did not invite him to come 
and play, and showed no interest whatever in that 
piece of wood and its strings. Ole Bull went into 
Mr. Erricson's shop and began to talk about woods, 
because wood, you know, is a very important part 
in a violin. He talked about the scientific proper- 
ties of wood, and Erricson listened. He talked 
about the mechanism of a violin, and Erricson lis- 
tened. Then Ole Bull put that violin to his shoul- 
der and thumbed a few little strokes with his finger, 
and still Mr. Erricson listened. Then Ole Bull took 
his bow, that bow which had delighted so many 
people, and drew it carefully across the cords, and 
it seemed as if the angels were singing a long way 
ofif. All the workmen in the establishment stopped 
and listened; and Ole Bull drew the bow again, 
and in a few moments Erricson stopped and the 
tears began to come down his cheeks, and he turned 
to Ole Bull and said: " Go on, go on; all my life I 
have missed something and I never knew what it was 
until just now; go on! " He had heard once more 

257 



LIFE'S MEMORY 

the brook in the valley; the birds warbling upon 
the hillside; the old scenes all depicted and made 
to live again, and his own soul now began to sing 
for joy. It was a magnificent discovery. He who 
awakens a sweet memory is his fellow man's bene- 
factor and offers some of the sweetest comfort and 
delight in the human heart. What bliss in the 
memory of the early days with their freedom, 
and health, and abundance of joy, if those hours 
are also marked with purity, and industry, and 
love, and holy ambition. A record without a 
moment misspent is the crown of old age. The 
very soil at the foot of the western side of life's hill 
which produces fragrance and fruit in abundance. 
A sweet memory that! 

The opposite of this supreme satisfaction and 
joy is found in the mocking struggle to forget those 
days. The man has forgotten the worship in the 
old church and the early religious life, the peace 
of a soul in touch with God, and memory silently 
gathers all these precious hours and lays them upon 
his desk or bench, and the soul cries out, " O that I 
could know that experience again. This is the 
great void in my life. I am the guilty party. I 
must go back to the old well, and drink at that 

258 



LIFE'S MEMORY 

fountain of highest living and noblest service." 
Some sermon of long ago suddenly, but vividly, 
comes back at the critical moment. A prayer which 
the wings of faith once carried to heaven's gate 
and left there was not lost. It returns to us as a 
bright angel of encouragement. Some word 
uttered in the long ago past comes with energy and 
pressure almost infinite. At mother's knee the 
child's prayer was repeated through those sacred 
days. Mother is dead. Fifty years have passed on. 
The whole world is changed. That prayer is lost in 
the increasing darkness of the past. What, lost? 
No, never lost! At some pivotal, strategic moment, 
at the call for sublimest service, memory forces its 
way through the darkness and the distance, and the 
child is once more at mother's knee. All the pledges 
and love of that hour push the man on now to do 
his best. Those days have infinite meaning in this 
day. The far-away past is sometimes buried, but 
under the almost divine force of memory, there is 
the power of resurrection. Memory will not per- 
mit death. The holy sabbaths of life stand out al- 
ways as the chief joy and strength of the soul. They 
come as determined accessories of strength. The 
yesterday of life has everything to do with the value 

259 



LIFE'S MEMORY 

of the service to-day. Recollection is a gigantic 
force. Rich indeed is the man who can say, " The 
Lord delivered me out of the paw of the lion, and 
out of the paw of the bear, and He will deliver me 
out of the hand of the uncircumsized Philistine." 

Old trials, and temptations, and struggles, and 
battlefields, and victories are the bodyguard of the 
warrior in the new fight. Human experience is a 
costly but precious jewel. It should never be 
thrown carelessly away, but prized and held at its 
true value. It is stamped with eternity. The Czar 
of Russia summoned the world to a Peace Con- 
gress, but who shall say that there is not some con- 
nection between this initial step of his in this great 
world's movement and the single event of eight 
years ago in his own personal experience ; the 
memory of that day in 1891 when the fanatical, half- 
insane Japanese policeman smote him with his 
heavy Japanese sword. Providence made it to be 
a glancing blow and the Czar to wear a very hard 
hat. Trifling things — thick hair, tough hat, rapid 
movement — but they were in one side of the balance 
and life in the other. In the strange Providence 
about every life it was ordered that he should suf- 
fer just enough, by loss of blood, and cut of sword, 

260 



LIFE'S MEMORY 

and pain of surgical operation, to make him sym- 
pathetic for the millions of wounded and dying men 
in the armies of the world. The thoughts of these 
past years have all converged toward the Peace 
Congress at The Hague. His memory of that hour 
is unquestionably the introduction to a new chapter 
in human history. 

During the Mexican war General Scott's army 
were pressing through a somewhat mountainous 
country when they were arrested in their progress 
by a deep, dry canon, the only bridge over which 
had been destroyed by the retreating Mexicans. 
The engineers, called for consultation, reported 
that owing to the great depth and the precipitous 
sides of the canyon it would take two days to re- 
place the bridge. There was in the army a regi- 
ment from Maine, recruited from the lumbermen 
of that State, commanded by a colonel whose own 
experience had been greater in log-driving than in 
soldiering. A man who in the spring freshets of 
the Penobscot — freshets augmented by letting 
loose the pools of water of the lakes of the northern 
wilderness — had led his men along. Now breast- 
deep in icy water, now struggling through the 

thickets on the banks, and again leaping in mid- 
261 



LIFE'S MEMORY 

stream from log to log, guiding the on-rushing 
million of feet of lumber in the mad career to tide- 
water. In spite of all effort he had occasionally 
seen those logs in the gorges of the Rippogenus, 
pile and jam and twist themselves into masses, 
towering aloft like Cologne Cathedral. As he lis- 
tened to the report of General Scott's engineers 
and glanced at the hillsides thickly grown with pine, 
he exclaimed: "Two days to bridge this crevasse, 
and my men standing here idle!" The hint was 
taken. All the axes in the army were distributed 
to the men from Maine. The trees came crashing 
down as fast as the horses, loosed from the artillery 
wagons, could haul them to the edge of the abyss, 
into which they were tumbled as you tumble hay 
out of a hayrick. Other men hewed string-pieces and 
cross-pieces for a corduroy road, and in two hours 
the army were marching across the canon. Memory 
brought back all the scenes and struggles in the 
Maine forest. All the experiences in the distant 
homeland rendered the impossible for other men the 
strangely possible for these men. The thought of 
what a man has done makes him ready for equal 
or larger service. They placed a small handker- 
chief over the back of a chair which stood at the 

262 



LIFE'S MEMORY 

head of the coffin when John B. Gough was buried. 
The silver-tongued orator had many times told the 
pathetic story of that handkerchief. He said: " I 
have in my house a small handkerchief, not worth 
three cents to you, but you could not buy it from 
me. A woman brought it and gave it to my wife 
and said: " I am very poor. I would give your hus- 
band a thousand pounds if I had it, but I brought 
this. I married with the fairest and brightest pros- 
pects before me, but my husband took to drink, and 
everything went. The piano my mother gave was 
sold, until at last I found myself in one miserable 
room. My husband lay intoxicated in a corner and 
my child was lying restless and hungry on my knee. 
The light of other days had faded, and I wet my 
handkerchief with my tears. My husband/ said she 
to my wife, ' met yours. He spoke a few words 
to him and gave a grasp of the hand, and now, for 
six years, my husband has been to me all that a 
husband can be to a wife, and we are gathering our 
household goods together again. I have brought 
your husand the very handkerchief I wet through 
that night with my tears, and I want him to re- 
member, when he is speaking, that he has wiped 
away those tears from my eyes forever. Ah/' 

263 



LIFE'S MEMORY 

said Gough, " these are the trophies that make men 
glad. The memory of that handkerchief has in- 
spired me for twenty-five years to do better service 
for humanity and God." 

Meditation upon such hours, with their stupen- 
dous meaning, give inspiration to every true man 
for greater sacrifice. No man, with vision in his 
eye, and with space on the walls of his memory, 
ever stood on Inspiration point two thousand feet 
above the Yellowstone and looked upon that mar- 
vellous climax of beauty and grandeur in the natural 
world, who did not find its impression and inspira- 
tion growing upon him as the years separated it 
from him. That graceful, dancing movement of 
the emerald stream, that mighty plunging of the 
jewelled falls, that avalanche of exquisite and 
heaven-touched color, that mingling of countless 
rainbows in the spray, that perfect representation 
of ruined castle and cathedral, that towering rock 
and gorgeous tree, the eagle in his eyrie and the 
chorus of forest birds in their glee, who can ever 
forget? Those are moments when lips are speech- 
less and the soul prays for silence. Memory can 
never lose that. No Moran, or Bierstadt, ever 
painted it like memory's brush. 

264 



LIFE'S MEMORY 

There are inspiration points in life; not disap- 
pearing, but abiding and increasing in power. That 
is the work of this human faculty, and makes it one 
of the chief elements, even in religion. This makes 
the water too sacred to drink and inspires sublimest 
sacrifice. 

During the mutiny in India in 1857 an English 
officer named Baird was taken prisoner. He was 
severely wounded and was very weak. Neverthe- 
less the order was issued to put fetters on him like 
the others. But a gray-haired prisoner stepped 
from the crowd and protested against their putting 
fetters on a man so weak. He even offered to wear 
Baird's fetters in addition to his own. He was 
taken at his word, and was doubly fettered. He had 
been a sufferer once himself. Now memory made 
him a saviour. Through the agency of this power- 
ful faculty the sacrifices made for us in the earliest 
moments of life are brought into the circle of vision 
as if they were only yesterday. Who has not gone 
over the childhood days again and again and with 
increasing delight and love? The stone cut the 
foot, but mother's salve was the healing balm. 
Father's protection was always a certainty and the 
bliss of security. The old tree is leafing out again 

265 



LIFE'S MEMORY 

in the springtime, even though the axe has taken 
the last remnant of the trunk away. The club flies 
into the apple-tree and the apple swings but stays, 
while the crooked limb keeps the club. The brook 
ripples over the pebbles and continues its sweet 
mission all the way through life. Who can forget 
it? Even the cows remember that. The meadow- 
larks and the robins are again companions, and the 
odor of the new-mown hay never disappears. 
Memory, with an unaccountable rapidity, brings all 
this to the present and says, it is not lost to you 
forever. Treasure it and use it. Where is the man 
with the soul of manhood in him who will not medi- 
tate on this wonderful condition of his existence 
and say the old home is not forgotten. Mother's 
sacrifice is not forgotten. Father's devotion is not 
forgotten. Even the trifling incidents are not oblit- 
erated. All of it enters into life as an important 
element. In this is the loudest call for his sublimest 
sacrifice. He declares, I will burden the present 
with the best, so that when it is a part of the past 
the memory of it will be clothed in brightest gar- 
ments and be always a welcome visitor. Memory 
discovers for us this important fact, that all the 
events of life are linked together. The chain is 

266 



LIFE'S MEMORY 

composed of large links, and small links, and silver 
links, and iron links, and gold links, and beautiful 
links, and shapeless links. All kinds, but one chain. 
There is no isolation, and the present struggle and 
every future victory depends upon that which has 
gone before. The waters of the old well in Bethle- 
hem furnished new courage and heroism for David. 
They banished despair and fear. He saw all the 
opposition and enmity of the past conquered and 
the — now was only another link in the same chain. 
The memory of other battlefields, and other vic- 
tories, and the old implements of warfare, bring new 
courage into the perilous moments. The fallen 
giant, and the headless body, and the famous old 
sword are the messengers of hope and heroism. " I 
can because I have " is the battle-cry. " Give me 
the tried sword. There is none like it." That is 
sanctified soliloquy. That is life's best tonic. It 
has marvellous power of invigoration. These events 
of the past are the brave armies supporting a con- 
quering commander. He is rich, indeed, who pos- 
sesses old milestones, and old stiles, and old wells, 
and old gates, and wrinkled memories. An old 
book may make a man twenty years younger when- 
ever he opens it. Beware of the new blades — sharp 

267 



LIFE'S MEMORY 

but brittle; new philosophies; new criticisms; new 
Bibles; which never killed even a dwarf. Mem- 
ory is the jewel-casket of the soul. Give pity 
to that man who uses it as a worthless box for rub- 
bish, and confusion, and shame. The rarest curiosi- 
ties of eternal life and divine love should be there, 
and so carefully arranged, and treasured, and 
guarded that the owner could take them out at will 
and with praiseworthy pride. A man's wealth is 
in his experience. History ought not to be like a 
vapor — to be cloudy and disappear. The hours of 
prayer, and deep thoughts of God, and the things 
Eternal will come back to the true man laden with 
greater blessing and increasing vividness. The 
events, apparently trivial and commonplace, are 
transformed, in the secrets of the heart, into the 
cause of deepest joy or most energetic accusation. 
Memory makes the true man a hero. Behold the 
shallowness of past fear and the triumphal march 
over seemingly impassable barriers! A young man 
started in business when little more than a boy, and 
by the time he was twenty-one had what seemed 
to him to be a fortune of $10,000. Every dollar 
he had worked so hard to make was lost in one 
night, and the young man was forced to begin 

268 



LIFE'S MEMORY 

anew. He went to an inland city in New York, 
and at twenty-nine sold out his interest in a busi- 
ness in which he had become connected, and retired 
with $30,000. He entered the office of a leading 
physician as a student, worked hard, and had just 
been made an M.D. when his old partner failed, 
and having indorsed his notes, the young doctor 
found himself without a dollar. He borrowed $500 
of a brother-in-law and went West. He struck 
for the largest city in the State, opened an office, 
and waited for fortune to come his way. In a few 
days the Governor of the State was taken suddenly 
sick in the night. A messenger was sent for the 
family physician, but he was not in; a search was 
made for some doctor, and the young man from 
Maine was found at home. He took the case, cured 
the Governor, and soon had more than he could 
attend to. He made money, invested in real estate, 
was elected mayor, and held other offices, and died 
president of three banks and a railroad, and worth 
$900,000. He recalled, in that critical moment, the 
experiences and victory of other hours and then 
rose in his kingliness and made the very opposition 
of the present his obedient servant. One of the most 

touching incidents in all the world of literature is 

269 



LIFE'S MEMORY 

the sad death of Thomas Chatterton. His own 
hand wrought the cruel deed when only eighteen 
years of age. He had already written such master- 
pieces that the critics were deceived, and declared 
them to be newly discovered manuscripts of some 
of the world's greatest authors. He was a boy with 
the brain and genius of a man. He was on the 
threshold of wealth and fame, but in these early 
hours he was subjected to ill treatment and forced 
to suffer the pangs of poverty. In these days of 
hunger, and disappointment, despair seized him, 
and death was welcomed, even if it was suicide. The 
secret of this sad career and the stain upon his 
early grave lies in the fact that he was too young 
and yet too old. Life's experience was necessary 
for his support. He had no great and sanctified 
memory. He came to those hardships unprepared. 
Memory plays a large part in the essential prepara- 
tion for the battle of life. It has wrought out 
marked moral revolutions and brought the soul 
to its regeneration. A father called his son into 
his shop, and, taking up an old axe, said to him: 
" My son, I have obtained more happiness cutting 
wood and hewing timber with this axe, and thus 
earning money, than you will ever secure in spend- 

270 



LIFE'S MEMORY 

ing it." It was a wise saying. The father died, and 
years went on. The son found his way to Porto 
Rico, and there he dreamed that he was a young 
man again, that he was in his father's shop, and 
that he saw his father take up that same old axe; 
and then when awake it came back into his mind 
what his father had said. Then the son remembered 
how he had inherited his father's property, how he 
wasted it, and how little good he had obtained from 
it. He became, under the impulse of that memory, 
one of the world's best men, and by the power of 
God made not only a brilliant success in life but 
worked out the restoration of the divine image. 

The saddest condition in human existence is 
when memory brings the sins of a man's life before 
him and leaves them there as his companions. Who 
can tell the story of the pangs of conscience! Only 
the soul understands its own suffering. On his 
twenty-fifth birthday Hartley Coleridge wrote these 
sad verses in his Bible: 

" When I received this volume small 
My years were barely seventeen, 
When it was hoped I should be all 
Which once, alas, I might have been. 
And now my years are twenty-five, 
And every mother hopes her lamb 
271 



LIFE'S MEMORY 

And every happy child alive 
May never be what now I am." 

That is drinking at the spring of Marah before 
the tree is dropped into its bitter waters. Sur- 
rounded by memories of sin, and impurity, and 
wasted life, Byron wrote on his thirty-third birth- 
day: 

" Through life's dull road, so dim and dirty, 
I have dragged to three and thirty; 
What have these years left to me? 
Nothing except thirty-three." 

In such agony of vivid memories there is the 
sound of peace for the listening ear. " I will give 
you rest " is the welcome message to every 
prodigal. Alone, with tear-stained face and hun- 
gry body, he is feeding the beasts and eating their 
food. He had squandered his father's wealth of 
love, and now memory brings back to him the 
father's house, the father's table, the father's abun- 
dance, the father's heart, and the old well at the 
gate. He rises in the remnants of his manhood 
and says, " I will go home." Such a recollection 
is an angel-messenger. Turn not thy back upon 
that bright form nor stop thy ears to that heavenly 
messenger. Drummond repeated the cry of a sin- 

272 



LIFE'S MEMORY 

ful man who was dying, " Take my influence and 
bury it with me/' and then he said he was going to 
be with Christ, but his influence had been against 
Him; he was leaving it behind. As a conspirator 
called by some act of grace to his sovereign's table 
remembers with unspeakable remorse the assassin 
whom he left in ambuscade at his king's palace 
gate, so he recalls his traitorous years and the in- 
fluences which will plot against his Lord when he 
is in eternity. O, it were worth being washed from 
sin, were it only to escape the possibility of a treach- 
ery like that. It were worth living a holy and self- 
denying life, were it only to join the choir invisible 
of those almighty dead who live again in lives made 
better by our presence." Drummond said, " That 
shall not be my life. I will crown it with sweet 
memories. My influence must be a force which 
lives forever in the elevation and salvation of hu- 
manity." And it does live and will live until the last 
man has made his record upon earth. His was the 
ideal life which came face to face with most grievous 
pain in the sunniest hours of his triumphs. He 
showed other men how to endure physical suffer- 
ing without a murmur and without a fear of death. 
He forgot his brilliant gifts, but talked much of the 

273 



LIFE'S MEMORY 

power to help men. His anguish of body whitened 
his hair within two years and caused his very bones 
to become so brittle that the slightest touch would 
shatter them. As the sun was disappearing in the 
glory of the evening sky he asked a friend to sing 
to him the words, " I hope to meet my Pilot face 
to face when I have crossed the bar." Afterward 
they sang for him his favorite hymn, " I am not 
ashamed to own my Lord," to which the dying 
scholar and Christian whispered: " There is nothing 
to beat that, Hugh. I know whom I have believed 
and am persuaded that He is able to keep that which 
I have committed to Him against that day." Then 
he wandered in his thoughts and tossed in his 
delirium, but the two words, " Mother " and 
" Christ," lingered longest on his lips, and when 
Death said " Stop," they stayed at the doorway as 
sentinels over the sanctity of everlasting memories. 

274 



When I was a little boy in my fourth year, one fine day in 
Spring, my father led me by the hand to a distant part of 
the farm, but soon sent me home ulone. On my way I had to 
pass a little pond, then spreading its waters wide, a rhodora 
in full bloom, a rare flower which grew only in that locality, 
attracted my attention and drew me to the spot. I saw a lit- 
tle tortoise sunning himself in the shallow waters at the roots 
of the flaming. shrub. I lifted the stick I had in my hand to 
strike the harmless reptile ; for though I had never killed any 
creature, yet I had seen other boys do so, and I felt a dispo- 
sition to follow their wicked example. But all at once some- 
thing checked my little arm, and a voice within me said clear 
and loud, "It is wrong ! * ' I held my uplifted stick in won- 
der at the new emotion, the consciousness of an involuntary but 
inward check upon my actions, till the tortoise and the rhodora 
both vanished from my sight. I hastened home and told the 
tale to my mother, and asked what it was that told me it was 
wrong. She wiped a tear from her eye, and, taking me in 
her arms, said : * e Some men call it conscience, but I prefer 
to call it the voice of God in the soul of man. If you listen 
to and obey it, then it will speak clearer and clearer, and 
always guide you right, but if you turn a deaf ear or disobey, 
then it will fade out Utile by little, and leave you in the dark 
and without a guide. Your life depends on heeding that 
little voice." — Theodore Parker. 



275 



XI 
LIFE'S CONSCIENCE 

The power of conscience is strikingly illustrated 
in the relation of the wicked ruler Herod, the new 
Jezebel, and the stern and holy Prophet. In re- 
sponse to the demands of Herodias and his fan- 
tastic sense of honor, this crafty and cruel ruler had 
slain a king among men who dared to protest 
against his unholy manner of life. He had a certain 
respect for the man, but the claims of a wicked 
woman's pleasure, his own veracity, and the ap- 
plause of his intoxicated associates conquered all 
hesitation, and the truth incarnate was murdered. 
A kingly head was carried into the banqueting hall 
to increase the mad revel of the hour. A woman's 
revenge was satisfied, and the event was soon hid- 
den in the dark past, and the blood-stain apparently 
forgotten. There is a resurrection day for every 
buried conscience — here or hereafter. Another 
strange and holy life appeared upon the world's 

276 



LIFE'S CONSCIENCE 

stage before the tragedy was finished. In the king's 
palace the story of the Christ found its way. When 
this new sensation burst through the royal gates, 
the startled ruler shouted with intense and terrified 
exclamation: " I know, I know it is John whom I 
beheaded. He is risen from the dead." 

It was morning; the clock had struck and con- 
science awoke. Memory may be silenced, but never 
slain. In momentary blindness and deafness, be- 
cause of confusion, and excitement, and the wild 
rush of the world, a man deceives himself and thinks 
that the evil deed was put to death. But some new 
man or event suddenly appears to startle and 
frighten. An unseen hand draws the garments 
from the skeleton. It may be only the color of an 
eye, or the manner of the step, in which there is a 
resemblance, but it is sufficient to summon all the 
past in review and create a never-dying terror. The 
fog of the morning may keep the remnants of night 
about the day, but a slight breeze scatters the mist 
and sweeps every cloud from the sky. Conscience 
dips its pen in blood. The second coming of the 
deed through the pathway of conscience makes it 
even more vivid and the personal element empha- 
sized. It was not a great and emphatic compunc- 

277 



LIFE'S CONSCIENCE 

tion that accompanied the commission of the crime, 
but when it came to light again, Herod cried: " It 
was /." " / beheaded him." There is no shifting 
of responsibility, or even offering the excuse of 
oath and honor, but " I murdered him." Alone 
with the deed, in after days, all apology and 
wrappings and deception, and soft words vanish. 
Conscience and its companion memory spend all 
the hours of their silence in stripping the robes and 
trappings from the naked crime. Conscience even 
has no mercy on a man's theology. Herod was a 
Sadducee. His theory was against the doctrine of 
a future state. It was good theology for some 
hours, but not for all. This present was his world; 
he did not want the future, and therefore adopted 
the usual custom of refusing to think about it, and 
declaring himself a Sadducee in theory. But now 
there is at least one man who can rise from the dead. 
The invisible world is made very real by the lan- 
tern of conscience. That light has a vital relation 
to belief. The thought of the judgment is not a 
stranger to any man's mind. Penalty is shackled 
to transgression. The cry of the king is the soul's 
cry of fright and dread. Conscience is the prophet 
of punishment and condemnation for the awful 

278 



LIFE'S CONSCIENCE 

crime of the death of innocence and truth. " It is 
conscience that makes cowards of us all." 

The great novelists, and dramatists, and poets 
have all emphasized the truth of conscience and 
given most vivid illustrations of its methods and its 
power. The master of the world in this respect is 
unquestionably Shakespeare. In Richard III. he 
cries exultingly, " Now is the winter of our discon- 
tent made glorious summer by this son of York." 
Then Clarence is murdered; then Hastings follows; 
then the noblemen; then Richard's wife; then the 
helpless boys in the tower; and conscience has con- 
quered the monarch at last and made him a shiver- 
ing coward. In his tent he sits at midnight, while 
before him pass all of his victims in ghostly proces- 
sion, and he cries, in the deepest agony of the hu- 
man soul: " Have mercy, Jesus! Soft, I did but 
dream. O coward conscience, how dost thou afflict 
me! The lights burn blue. My conscience hath 
a thousand several tongues, and every tongue 
brings in a several tale, and every tale condemns 
me for a villain." 

Hamlet knew the power of conscience, and 
watched the guilty monarch, and when the poison 
was poured he cried: " Give me some light — away! 

279 



LIFE'S CONSCIENCE 

O my offence is rank, and smells to heaven! It hath 
the primal curse upon it — a brother's murder." 

Macbeth's conscience is like a thousand stinging 
serpents in the centre of the heart, and forces the 
cry: " Avaunt and quit my sight; let the earth hide 
thee! Take any shape but that! Hence, horrible 
shadow." Then Lady Macbeth, in her sleep, en- 
deavors to wash an imaginary blood-stain from her 
hand, and exclaims, " Out, damned spot! " And 
then, and with a wail of woe and terror, adds: " Here 
is the smell of blood still. Not all the perfumes of 
Arabia will sweeten this little hand." The indelible 
stain would not wash. If the ocean-bed were the 
basin, and it was full, the blood would still remain 
upon the hands of Cain, and Pilate, and Judas. 

There are two men in every man. The inner 
man is the better. When the outer man violates 
conviction, the inner man makes emphatic protest. 
This is a great fact of life which must be reckoned 
with the same as every other fact. It will not suffer 
denial or ignorance. It is real and most vital. This 
is God's best gift to humanity. Imagination, and 
reason, and memory, and all other faculties take a 
scondary place. This is the supreme element in 
man. It is the eye of the soul. There is a war 

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LIFE'S CONSCIENCE 

for life or death between the higher and lower 
nature; between good and evil. In this struggle 
for mastery conscience is the commander of the 
good forces. It is that peculiar power in the soul 
which commands all the rest of the army of facul- 
ties. It always orders death to the evil. It stands 
courageous for righteousness, with all the reserve 
force of heaven at its call. Man is a free moral 
agent. All men act that truth whether they theo- 
retically proclaim it or not. In the realm of that 
freedom conscience moves with kingly attitude, 
We are slaves only as we will be. It is not by com- 
pulsion of the higher laws. It is the glory of our 
manhood that the dictates of conscience can be 
carried out. It is the voice of the Supreme Will 
in the soul, and the greater good is attained by ac- 
tion in conformity to this Will of all wisdom and 
all love. Man would be the creature of circum- 
stances if it was not for his will and his conscience. 
But he can be now the king of the world and his 
royalty be eternal. " He is a free man whom the 
truth makes free and all are slaves beside." 

The Bible does not prove the existence of con- 
science. It simply recognizes the fact. Neither 

does it prove the existence of God, but declares, 

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LIFE'S CONSCIENCE 

" In the beginning, God." Revelation takes for 
granted the reality and the recognition of con- 
science in human history. It is born with the child 
the same as any other faculty. Appearances are 
always against the cradle. Reason and imagina- 
tion, even, do not seem to be there. The argument 
is won only by comparison with other members of 
the human family. The child cannot speak, there- 
fore it is dumb? No! Wait for development. Con- 
science demands time for its appearance. It may 
not be a separate faculty; it may be of a composite 
nature and more intimately related to the other 
faculties than they are to each other. However that 
may be, it is rocked in the cradle and grows with 
its human home and the other occupants. 

This moral sense is not the result of law or social 
life, or any other element. It lies deeper than that. 
It is a part of the human constitution. It is a part 
of man without which he would not be man. It 
is the part nearest to the divine. It holds the secrets 
of God and carries the voice of God. The highest 
ideal is " to have a conscience void of offence 
toward God and man." 

The child in the home is an interrogation-point 
at the end of every act of its own and " no " of its 

282 



LIFE'S CONSCIENCE 

mother. " Why is this not right? " " Why is that 
wrong? " but gradually he inclines to the right be- 
cause he feels that inward impulse of duty to obey. 
He may be naturally disinclined, but drill and teach- 
ing change that bent of disposition. Conscience 
is born at the moment of his birth, but its disci- 
pline is a life-long process. In this sense it is an arti- 
ficial and educated faculty, but no more so than any 
other one of the two score and more faculties. The 
child goes out from the home into the world and 
still remains in the school of life where conscience 
receives constant instruction. 

Conscience does not discover good and evil; it 
does not interpret right and wrong; it does not de- 
termine the moral quality of things. It simply but 
emphatically declares that man must do the right 
and not do the wrong. The understanding must 
decide as to the right or wrong, and immediately 
the voice of conscience is heard, like the bell within 
the clock when the machinery has moved the indi- 
cator far enough. Conscience does not change with 
time and circumstances, but there are the most deli- 
cate distinctions between right and wrong being 
made more numerous and more difficult by cir- 
cumstances and time. Conscience means, etymol- 

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LIFE'S CONSCIENCE 

ogically, " with knowledge." Living with or accord- 
ing to our highest knowledge. To be conscien- 
tious is to live up to our light. In this is the trans- 
formation of knowledge into character. Conscience 
does not furnish the evidence. It is the infallible 
judge which forever condemns the wrong and 
praises the right. It is man's guide through the 
dangerous and unknown country of temptation and 
sin. It is the compass which never fails on life's 
stormy sea. 

O the tragical possibilities in man's relation to 
this supreme element in life, and character, and des- 
tiny! It may be "seared as with a hot iron;" it 
may be made to undergo such a process as to be 
stunted, and dwarfed, and withered, and the last 
drop of sap taken out of it. It may be made to lose 
its power to control and ennoble. This ruin is 
wrought within before it appears outwardly. Its 
beginning is not in the flesh or upon the surface; 
so all change for the better, and final redemption 
must come from the inner nature. That is the 
secret of the gospel. That is the meaning of the 
new birth. It is new direction; new impulse; new 
desire; in reality, new living. That is regeneration. 
That is the only salvation. Conscience must for- 

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LIFE'S CONSCIENCE 

ever derive its vitality from God. Otherwise it goes 
down and creates moral darkness. Conscience dis- 
obeyed is will weakened. The power of resistance 
is less. Habit is formed and the propagation of evil 
goes on. If the sound of the alarm-clock is heeded 
when it first disturbs the sweetness of sleep, it is 
effective in its purpose, but if the eyes are again 
closed, the next morning there is less wakefulness, 
and, at last, that hated piece of machinery has lost 
all of its usefulness. 

Only a few years ago Mr. Parnell was the great 
leader of the Irish cause in the English Parliament. 
He possessed a characteristic eloquence, and was 
master of great occasions. He was a leader with 
magnificent common-sense and royal bearing. He 
fought his way, step by step, until the greatest in 
the world respected him and the morning of victory 
began to dawn for his cause. Every man prophe- 
sied that he would live in history as one of the great- 
est of men. He was great enough, in 1882, to offer, 
of his own accord, to Mr. Gladstone, to retire from 
public life if such an act would be helpful to his 
people. But, on the threshold of his triumph, he 
began to trifle with and trample upon conscience. 
In his inner life this disobedience was first doing its 

285 



LIFE'S CONSCIENCE 

deadly work without the knowledge of his fellow 
men. He did not resist the wrong, and conscience 
was gnawing at the very vitals of his being and his 
success. In 1890 the cloak was unfastened and 
thrown back. Then Justin McCarthy, who had 
been his dearest friend, said of* him: " He seems 
suddenly to have changed his whole nature and his 
very ways of speech. We knew him before as a 
man of superb self-restraint — cool, calculating, 
never carried from the moorings of his keen intel- 
lect by any waves of passion around him. A man with 
the eye and the foresight of a born commander-in- 
chief. We have now, in our midst, a man seemingly 
incapable of self-control; a man ready at any mo- 
ment, and on the smallest provocation, to break 
into a very tempest and whirlwind of passion. A 
man of the most reckless and self-contradictory 
statements. A man who could descend to the most 
trivial and vulgar personalities; who could engage, 
and even indulge, in the most ignoble and humili- 
ating brawls." His star became a shooting-star, 
and fell forever from the world's sky. No foot ever 
stepped upon the sacred treasure of conscience with 
impunity. 

Charles IX. of France in his youth was of a lov- 

286 



LIFE'S CONSCIENCE 

ing and sensitive nature. His mother's training, so 
inhuman, had much to do with his sad transforma- 
tion. Even when she first proposed to him the 
massacre of the Huguenots he shrank from it in hor- 
ror and said, " No, no, madam; they are my loving 
subjects." If he had listened, in this critical mo- 
ment, to the voice of conscience so that its de- 
mands could never have been forgotten, St. Bar- 
tholomew's night would never have made crimson 
the pages of history, and he would have escaped 
the agony and remorse of the dark hours about his 
death-bed. In the terror of the judgment and the 
memory of his bloody deeds, he cried to his physi- 
cian as death demanded his soul: "Asleep or 
awake, I see the mangled forms of the Huguenots 
passing before me. They drip with blood; they 
make hideous faces at me; they point to their open 
wounds and mock me. O that I had spared at 
least the little infants at the breast." Then he 
screamed and cried in his misery, while the bloody 
sweat oozed from the pores of his skin. He crushed 
that beautiful cluster of tender and pure impulses 
of the soul into the cup. of remorse, and death 
pressed it to his lips and forced him to drain its 
very dregs. 

287 



LIFE'S CONSCIENCE 

Every sin has its avenging angel, and it never 
deserts its duty. Men attempt to bury crime, but 
no grave is deep enough. Conscience never dies. 
It is oftentimes bruised and trampled upon, but 
never slain. It still cries out, " Do forever that 
which makes for holiness, and happiness, and 
heaven." It is permanent and universal; it is at the 
centre of being. It is safe from destruction. It is 
the echo of eternal law in the soul. It is like the 
atmosphere; it bears down upon a man out of 
heaven from every point of the compass and at 
every tick of the clock. Self-control and every ele- 
ment of divineness in us depends upon the ascend- 
ency of conscience. Conscience in the moral world 
is what gravity is in the physical world. You can- 
not ignore or get away from it, or live without it. 
It is not an accident in human life; it is elemental 
and essential. 

Loyalty to conscience is the only foundation 
upon which character or manhood can be erected. 
If the other and upper stories are beautiful, sham 
in the hidden foundation will work ultimate ruin. • 
To be a man is to despise all effort to silence the 
voice of God by failure to obey. 

Socrates wrote no books, and did not leave his 

288 



LIFE'S CONSCIENCE 

deepest impression upon the world even in his 
teaching, but in his brilliant example of deathless 
devotion to conscience. The world would never 
have remembered his name with the glory that now 
encircles it if he had not held the cup of hemlock 
and stood in the face of death true to his deepest 
conviction. And the long catalogue of the world's 
heroes have been enrolled according to that same 
principle. Even in the commercial world it is con- 
science in business which carries the reward of real 
success. When a piece of his work seemed inferior 
and did not reach his ideal Wedgwood, the master 
would hurl it away from him, saying, " That won't 
do for Josiah Wedgwood." Conscience makes 
character, and character makes permanent reputa- 
tion, and Wedgwood pottery won and held a world- 
wide celebrity. Ask questions of the life of Bene- 
dict Arnold, and Aaron Burr, and George Washing- 
ton, and you will discover the philosophy of true 
life and the power of obedience to conscience. 
Carlyle says: " Who is a true man? He who does 
the truth, and never holds a principle on which he 
is not prepared in any hour to act, and in any hour 
to risk the consequences of holding it." Angel's 

visits are the poetry of truth. The bright angel 

289 



LIFE'S CONSCIENCE 

of a good conscience, after the battle won or duty 
done, is man's companion. No pleasure can com- 
pare with the joy of his presence, and no music 
so sweet as the sound of his voice. 

At a critical hour in the life of the famous Tolstoi 
he came to the conclusion, after studying the gos- 
pels, that the Sermon on the Mount contained the 
secret of religion, and that its heart-searching and 
life-changing commands must be obeyed. Love for 
God and love for man, even his enemies, fastened 
itself upon his whole life so that ordinary charitable 
work failed to satisfy him. His fine carriage, pass- 
ing his miserable neighbors, seemed arrant hy- 
pocrisy. He began to loathe that elegant style of 
life and to come as close as possible to the great 
hard-working and poverty-stricken mass of hu- 
manity. " I am sitting on the back of a man whom 
I am crushing," he said. " I insist on his carrying 
me, and without setting him free I tell him that I 
pity him a great deal, and that I have only one de- 
sire — that of improving his condition by all possi- 
ble means, and yet I never get off his back. If I 
wish to help the poor I must not be the cause of 
their poverty." 

We find how consistently Tolstoi first acted in 

290 



LIFE'S CONSCIENCE 

conformity to conscience. He retired to the coun- 
try. He stripped his home of every luxury. He 
clad himself in the rough clothes of the peasant. 
He gives up all delicacies. He abstains from all 
wine and tobacco. He works in the fields when 
his health permits. He learns to make his own 
boots. He continues to write, but only such books 
and articles as he believes will help the world 
toward Christ. Every man may not agree with his 
manner of life or with his social theories, but every 
man must agree with his love for humanity and his 
supreme loyalty to conscience. To be considered 
a lunatic, and a heretic, and a traitor for twenty 
years is magnificent heroism. What others call the 
value in life he has sacrificed, but in all this the 
laws of earth and heaven have cooperated to give 
him greater influence in the world than those who 
are at the head of Russian army or navy. He is 
a prophet of the future power of character and 
sympathy against the forces of the world. 

Conscience is often fragmentary, and touches 
vigorously and emphatically only a part of life. 
One man has a conscience in his business, but leaves 
it at the office, and lives without it in the home. 

Another is a slave to conscience in the home, but 

291 



LIFE'S CONSCIENCE 

rebels against every demand for it in the store. One 
man is exceedingly conscientious concerning his 
theology, but forgets the necessity of that righteous 
element in his morality. John Calvin could burn 
Cervetes after he had made a new theology for the 
world, and made it to take his name. Charles IX. 
could stay three hours in church, and on the same 
day inaugurate St. Bartholomew's massacre and 
fill the streets of Paris with human blood. It is a 
poor conscience which is seen only in spots. To be 
conscientious one day and not the next; in one 
environment and not in another; in one tempera- 
ment and not all conditions, is not to be an obedi- 
ent subject of the world's greatest sovereign, God's 
vicegerent in the soul. 

As conscience is stifled by disobedience, it is 
strengthened by obedience. It is subject to educa- 
tion, but there are many false factors in the edu- 
cational force. The statements of other people, the 
customs of society, personal opinions and personal 
desires. Such as these are not heaven's graduates 
carrying diplomas to teach in life's school. You 
can educate into almost any course of life. You 
can make one man believe that a stone is his god, 

and another man believe that the best way to serve 

292 



LIFE'S CONSCIENCE 

God is by thrusting himself through with a knife 
and tying cords in knots through his flesh. Re- 
ligion is made irreligious by education. Many a 
musician, and orator, and artist, and writer has been 
ruined by false education. Recipients of splendid 
natural ability, but given the wrong bent. 

Conscience may be trained upward or downward; 
may be strengthened or weakened; it may be de- 
filed or beautified. It is not necessarily a perfect 
conscience or a good conscience, but it may be 
trained to goodness. This education is first from 
the divine side. No man can have a good con- 
science in society who has not a good conscience 
toward God. Love for God precedes love for man, 
so conscience has its first relation to God. Com- 
munion with the upper world is the introduction to" 
right living on earth. It is a religious conscience 
before it is a social conscience. Right with God 
and then right with man. Hearken to God's voice 
before you can listen to the cry or understand the 
need of suffering humanity. 

Because of the certainty of difference in the un- 
derstanding of what is right and what is wrong, 
every man should have charity and respect for the 
conscience of every other man. Constitutional 

293 



LIFE'S CONSCIENCE 

temperament and biases are wrought into con- 
science. There are consciences just as different as 
intellects and emotions are. Just as different as 
people themselves are. An artist never had the 
same conscience as a financier. Their disposition, 
and nature, and life make a contrast in their moral 
sense. Some things that are the essence of weak- 
ness to a man who is a worshipper of a creed or a 
bit of theology may even seem righteous to his 
neighbor who never saw this world or the next as 
he sees it. God never gave one man a conscience 
for another, any more than He did a brain or a 
heart. He ordained that every man should have 
toleration, and not a conscience, for his neighbor. 
Prejudice and self-esteem and popery are the ene- 
mies of morality and spirituality. We shall not 
be judged by our neighbor's conscience, but by our 
own. The Spartans taught their children to steal. 
They did not believe in disobedience, but admired 
the power of concealment. It was their skill that 
was praised, and not their thievery. This was a 
strange conscience, but right to obey it. Doing 
what seems to be right is the only road to finding 
out what is right. We are responsible for convic- 
tions and the way we reach them, but there is only 

294 



LIFE'S CONSCIENCE 

one pathway, and that of obedience. Violation of 
conscience is death to morality and the higher life. 
Conscience is so sacred that it must not be opposed, 
even in others. Our action is controlled by offence 
given to another man's conscience. Pity the weaker 
man, but do not thrust a sword into his loyalty to 
that which he honestly believes is the right. Chris- 
tian conscience is one throne higher than Christian 
liberty. Boasted liberty may destroy conscience, 
but it strikes at the very life of the soul. Deny 
thyself from the impulse of sympathy and fear to 
cause others to sin and you have entered into the 
very inner temple of human life. There is a primary 
right and a secondary right. There is an eternal 
right and a temporary right. There is an absolute 
right and a circumstantial right. The Sabbath day 
has changed, but not the law of God. Every creed 
has changed, but not the fundamentals of Christian 
truth. Worship God forever, but whether at ten 
or eleven o'clock is not a part of the eternal ar- 
rangement. Method is always changing. Homes, 
and churches, and enterprises are killed by irra- 
tional conscience. Emphasis is too often laid upon 
petty and minor matters. Conscience must be 
founded upon reason if it triumphs in the world, 

295 



LIFE'S CONSCIENCE 

because reason is always victorious. It takes a 
long time, in some instances, but it is crowned at 
last. It is folly to spend strength on anything less 
than principles. In the secondary matters most of 
the false judgment of others is formed. Here is the 
place for liberality, but in the sanctity of the inner 
right — never! Beware of oppressing others with 
your conscience. It may be only a secondary and 
temporal one. It may be unworthy of a long 
sceptre. We only learn the primary and the eter- 
nal from communion with Christ. Washing hands 
and eating with the Pharisees did not make up the 
larger part of His life. It was not empty and hol- 
low, but solid and cubic. His was the very life of 
God. The kingdom of God is not in externals; it 
is in life, and life more abundantly, and life eternal. 
He furnishes the standard in precept and example 
for all men in their relation to their own conscience 
and that of other men. He conquers who stands 
by the Christ, even if his feet press the rocky soil 
of Calvary. 

They say a bright light fell on Luther's face as 
the German monk stood before the Emperor at 
Worms, and said, " I cannot and will not recant." 

2Q6 



LIFE'S CONSCIENCE 

But a brighter light entered his soul as he boldly 
fronted death for conscience' sake. 

All happiness comes through one channel, and 
that is the peace which flows through the deepest 
part of life, the peace of conscience. Peace with 
myself, peace with my record, peace with my God. 

In the olden time Hawthorne says there lived a 
knight who fell in love with a strange but beautiful 
maiden. She dwelt in a fountain in the seclusion of 
a lonely and hidden forest. She charmed the boy's 
soul. She was so attractive and so near to nature 
that the birds, and fishes, and all the animal world 
were her friends. She taught him how to make 
them all his companions. She could always make 
him happy and bring sunshine into his darkness. 
He made a journey to the distant city, and in a peril- 
ous and unguarded moment he fell and became guilty 
of grossest sin. A few days passed in the trans- 
gression, and after it, when he appeared one morn- 
ing in the forest again. He was now a coward and 
trembled. His appearance had changed. Glances 
flashed from his blood-shot eyes. He tried his old 
power, and whistled to his forest friends. They 
came all about him, but suddenly scampered and 
fled away with frightened cries. He gave a slight 

297 



LIFE'S CONSCIENCE 

scream too, but hastened on toward the fountain. 
He reached its side only to find the very waters 
shrinking away from him and refusing to touch 
his lips. He cried for the maiden, but only an 
echo of bitterness and woe came back. He at last 
saw her blessed face only for a moment, and 
then it was lying upon the water, pale and with a 
blood-stain upon the forehead. His crime had slain 
the fountain girl. His hopes were blasted, and his 
world darkened, and his condemnation the greatest 
reality. Conscience had been trifled with and 
trampled upon, and this was the end. 

298 



Sow an act, reap a habit ; sow a habit, reap a character ; 
sow a character, reap a destiny. — Anon. 

Man is not the creature of circumstance. Circumstances 
a,re the creatures of men. — Disraeli. 

We shape ourselves the joy or fear 
Of which the coming life is made 

And all our future *s atmosphere with sunshine or with shade . 

— Whittier. 

Time the shuttle drives, but you 

Give to every thread its hue 

And elect your destiny. — Burleigh. 

Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful, we 
must carry it with us or we find it not. — Emerson. 

If we would see the color of our future we must look for 
it in our present. If we would gaze on the star of our 
destiny we must look for it in our hearts. — Canon Farrar. 

The end of life is to be like God, and the soul following 
Him will be like Him. — Socrates. 



299 



XII 
LIFE'S DESTINY 

The smallest fraction of human life does not 
know chance, and scoffs at fate. Destiny is in the 
citadel of law and guarded by all the forces in the 
universe. Greek and Roman fates are still frown- 
ing upon a trembling world. Their despotism is 
the gift of pagan theology. Dignity of freedom is 
forced back by their power and boldness. The hu- 
man will is left out of the weaver's hands and the 
fabric of life is tangled and knotted threads. This 
has not the sanction of reason, experience, or reve- 
lation. There are three forces which operate in 
human life, — will, environment, and God. They 
not only operate but cooperate in the making of 
character and fixing of destiny. Man is no more 
the creature of circumstances than the creator of 
circumstances, and a supernatural power forces its 
way into his environment. No one questions the 
effect of surroundings upon character and life, but 

300 



LIFE'S DESTINY 

kingly man swings his sceptre over these conditions 
and says, " There shall be no Alps." He calls " im- 
possible " a " blockhead word," and casts it out of 
his vocabulary and finds no definition for it in the 
dictionary. The engine halts before the great bar- 
rier of the mountain-range, but man speaks the im- 
possible and says, " go on, go on," but his com- 
mands are for obedience, and a hole is bored 
through the granite hills. Bedford Jail makes 
" Pilgrim's Progress " and Milton's blindness 
makes Paradise Lost." One day is as good as an- 
other. We are the foolish victims of superstition. 
Friday is the best day in American history. 

Friday, Christopher Columbus sailed on his voyage of dis- 
covery. 

Friday, ten weeks after, he discovered America. 

Friday, Henry VII. of England gave Cabot his commis- 
sion, which led to the discovery of North America. 

Friday, St. Augustine, the oldest town in the United States, 
was founded. 

Friday, the Mayflower, with the Pilgrims, arrived at Prov- 
incetown; and on 

Friday, they signed the august compact, the forerunner of 
the present Constitution. 

Friday, George Washington was born. 

Friday, Bunker Hill was seized and fortified. 

Friday, the surrender of Saratoga was made. 

301 



LIFE'S DESTINY 

Friday, the surrender of Cornwallis at Yorktown occurred; 
and on 

Friday, the motion was made in Congress that the United 
States were, and of right ought to be, free and independent. 

God makes man, but man also makes himself. 
In that is his responsibility. He has been endued 
with will power, and that is the maker of character. 
This power of choice makes every man the author 
of his own destiny. The glory of manhood and its 
distinctive feature is its power to choose. The ab- 
solute necessity of freedom is in morality, and char- 
acter, and destiny. There could be no moral qual- 
ity in action if chance or fate were in control. There 
must be free agency in order to manhood, morality, 
or religion. Napoleon said he had his star, his 
fate, but he toiled and strained every faculty and 
nerve to the highest tension nineteen hours out of 
each day. Success and character are surrounded 
by conditions which every man must courageously 
face. This is the genius of salvation. It is offered 
to every man upon his personal acceptance of the 
conditions; a complete surrender to its claims. 
Chance does not control it, and fate does not com- 
pel it. One journey through the halls of memory 
in the companionship of conscience stamps this 

302 






LIFE'S DESTINY 

great truth upon the soul of every man. He recog- 
nizes himself as the architect of his own life and its 
destiny. God never hardened any Pharoah's heart. 
He was the maker of his own condition, the author 
of his own end. He ruled by obduracy and selfish- 
ness. He forgot God and the principles of truth 
and righteousness; he mocked heaven's messengers 
and ignored their warning. He trampled upon the 
law of God, and by that process made his own heart 
as hard as the granite rock. This sad result was 
reached by laws as binding and relentless as the 
laws which make the mountains themselves. The 
law of gravity works no more perfectly or effectively 
than this law of the soul life. A hard heart is 
ever the result of man's act. It was not compul- 
sion; it was choice. This is not the sovereignty of 
force; this is the kingdom of will. God is to us only 
what we are to Him. He does not compel us; he 
begins where we are. The process of hardening 
is the process of nature. God's sovereignty is never 
divorced from God's love. Man's freedom is never 
destroyed in the presence of divine power. Man 
has no control over his birth, and finds himself in a 
world which he did not create. He is subjected to 
these conditions, and, in a measure, under their 

303 



LIFE'S DESTINY 

power. Is this man, then, the instrument of blind 
fate? No, a thousand times no! He is the king 
of his own realm. He is the creator of his own 
character. There is no power in blood, or circum- 
stances, to condemn a man. The almost omnipo- 
tence of his own will is at once his salvation and 
the cause of his responsibility. Nature furnishes 
the materials, but man fashions the tools and makes 
the furniture. God gives man forests, but no 
house. Every man is the recipient of materials for 
the making of character, but it is his time, and his 
strength, and his persistency, and his perfect pat- 
tern which bring the result. The raw material of 
blood and environment are his for higher use. 
Even a man's thoughts come to be the greatest 
workmen in the building of life. " As a man think- 
eth in his heart so is he." His very features are the 
lines upon which his thoughts are written. The 
secret things of the soul reveal themselves at last. 
A German boy was reading a blood-and-thunder 
novel. Right in the midst of it he said to himself: 
'' Now, this will never do. I get too much excited 
over it. I can't study so well after it. So here it 
goes! ,: And he flung the book out into the river. 
He was Fichte, the great German philosopher. In 

304 



LIFE'S DESTINY 

every man's life there have been moments of such 
revelation, but not always moments of victory. 
Skakespeare was arrested for deer-stealing and 
brought before a Warwickshire judge. He fled 
from the ire of Sir Thomas Lucy and became a 
second-rate actor in the theatre. His natural dis- 
position was to a dissolute life. Some of his minute 
descriptions reveal his thorough familiarity with the 
low life and sin of the London taverns. His father 
was determined to make his boy live as he had 
lived and become an ordinary wool-comber of Strat- 
ford, but this boy could not be chained fast to that 
kind of an occupation. He harnessed his wagon 
to a star and changed the whole course of his life 
and at last wrote the dramatic as no mortal has 
ever written, and secured an imperishable fame and 
made a glorious record in the literary world. His 
natural inclination was conquered by his holy reso- 
lution. He wrote marvellous dramas, but played 
his part better. He never bowed to chance or fate. 
The great fact of human existence is that char- 
acter makes destiny. Every man comes to his own 
place. The motive of a man's heart controls his life 
and makes his measure of success. Agassiz so loved 
natural history that not a bone, or a bird, or a fish, 

305 



LIFE'S DESTINY 

or even a strange pebble escaped his notice. The 
skeleton of a peculiar fish was brought into the 
museum at Cambridge. The excitement of the old 
man was intense. He placed it beneath his glass 
and examined it hour after hour and forgot his 
food and his sleep. He was so enthusiastic over 
the study of God in nature that it became his real 
life, and the world crowned him. Why is Pasteur 
known the world over and recognized as supreme 
authority in his speciality? Because he has been 
obedient to the leading great passion of his life. 
His discoveries in bacteriology were his delight, 
and at last entered into every drop of blood which 
coursed through his veins. He could not let it go; 
he must toil at it unceasingly. It was on his heart 
in the daytime; it was the dream of the night. 
Obstacles and difficulties were banished before this 
great, overmastering passion and supreme motive 
of his life. He could not conceal it; it was him- 
self. The inner life stamped itself upon every part 
of the external. That was his world. He con- 
quered it and owned it. There are no exceptions 
to this great rule. Every man fashions his own 
world and makes his own future. There is not a 
mean moment in life. It is all sublime and glori- 

306 



LIFE'S DESTINY 

ous, freighted with the gold of possibility and 
stamped with eternity. The gallery of the human 
soul may be covered with works of art and frescoed 
with the beauty of fidelity, or it can be a wretched 
daub. No space is left blank; something must be 
done; even idleness takes a brush in hand and does 
its work unceasingly and indelibly. Every stroke 
remains forever. Remorse and regret are the asso- 
ciates of a man who thus fills his life. If he will not 
have flowers he must have weeds. If he will not 
have wheat he must have nettles. There is no wis- 
dom in challenging the divine economy. The laws 
of nature never change to accommodate careless- 
ness or negligence. The rule has no exceptions, 
and is bold in its demands upon obedience. It never 
succumbs to the prayer of ignorance. Gardens and 
harvests depend upon an inexorable law. But life also 
has its laws, and character bears its sacred and eter- 
nal relation to them. Neglect and refusal to obey 
forever grows weeds instead of flowers. Intellectual 
and physical strength or weakness come always by 
their own pathway to every man. Moral nature 
is subjected to the same principles. The end has 
an inevitable but direct connection with the be- 
ginning. Sowing and reaping can be separated 

307 



LIFE'S DESTINY 

only in time. Negative condition is not an option. 
There will be growth without cultivation. Pro- 
duction is a necessity. Man has the power to de- 
clare its kind. 

Neither the sluggard nor the fool is relieved 
from obligation. Here is evidenced the sharpest 
wisdom or the bluntest folly. This great and bind- 
ing law does not confine itself to a man's own life. 
It even works on with startling and pathetic effect 
in the lives of others. It is a delusion to suppose 
that a broken commandment touches only the of- 
fender's character and condition. He racks his 
body, and shatters his mind, and forfeits his prop- 
erty, but he is convicted before the suffering of 
his family and the blight he places upon society. 
No man lives unto himself. He has no possession 
exclusively his own. His life itself is a sanctified 
trust. Weeds in a garden give their seeds into the 
hands of the wind to be scattered in a hundred other 
gardens. The far-reaching result of one life is not 
measured by the mathematics of the schools. The 
eternities and infinities enter into the calculation. 
It is a dramatic and tragical moment when man 
holds the germs of righteous or evil action in his 
hand. He recognizes the result, but knows it only 

308 



LIFE'S DESTINY 

in part. That critical moment shares in the making 
of his own destiny and has an emphatic bearing on 
his fellow men. He cannot force them, but he can 
help or hinder them. There is sin even in neglect 
and ill use. The demand is made for right use 
and increase. Possession without cultivation is sin. 
Riches of any kind — money or opportunity — in a 
napkin is under the condemnation of highest jus- 
tice. This relates to the whole circumference of 
life's circle. Every man has been called a trustee 
and a steward. Property is wealth only in its use 
in the interests of character. All other values are 
subservient to the good done to self or others. This 
makes the solemnity of life. What the world calls 
defeat may be grandest victory. To strive simply 
for fame or wealth is a sign of weakness; they are 
not the prize of life. The great laws of the world 
do not govern them, nor do the forces of the world 
always operate to their possession. They are tossed 
about carelessly in the crowd and are not worth 
the scramble. To be great in the sight of God 
and a man's own heart is as distant from them as 
the east from the west. Here is certainty. Any 
one can achieve greatness if he will pay the price. 
It is a mastery of self, and a living for others, and 

309 



LIFE'S DESTINY 

a divine association. Popularity, and reputation, and 
fortune are large words with small meaning. Char- 
acter compasses the very eternities themselves. He 
who secures these baubles for which the crowd are 
madly seeking is simply striving to displace another 
man; to outdo his fellow; to embitter human life. 
This is the brute law of competition, but there is 
a diviner law which ennobles manhood and saves 
the world. The world's failure is often heaven's 
success. Alexander and Napoleon, Herod and 
Caiaphas, and even Cain, were successful. Dante 
was an exile; Savonarola a martyr; Homer a beg- 
gar, and the great army of missionaries died un- 
known in heathen darkness. The greatest failure 
in all the world was nailed to Calvary's cross, but 
His shall be the most triumphant success of all time 
and eternity. Raleigh failed, but his name is 
shackled to heroism and nobility. Kossuth failed, 
but his deathless fidelity and his golden words will 
have power with men until the last second is ticked 
off on the clock of time. O'Connell failed, but in 
the failure was the seed of enduring fame as the 
aspostle of liberty and the silver-tongued orator 
of the people. Joan of Arc was burned alive at 
Rouen, but she still lives. Lincoln was assassinated 

310 



LIFE'S DESTINY 

in the very centre of his career, but his life is sur- 
rounded with a halo of glory. Wykliffe and Cran- 
mer were burned at the stake. The world shouted 
failure; heaven declared victory. " Be of good 
comfort, Master Ridley, and play the man/' said 
Latimer as he stood with his friend at the stake, 
" we shall this day light such a candle, by God's 
grace, in England as I trust shall never be put out," 
and every word sounded around the world and 
echoed through the corridors of the eternal city. 
Garrison and Phillips failed, were jeered and hissed 
at every turn, but on that very ground men are 
building monuments to their memory. Demos- 
thenes, and Curran, and Disraeli were thrust to the 
heart by the taunts of men, and even driven from 
the rostrum, but the power of greatness would 
not be silenced, and time, ever faithful, brought 
the reward. Apparent defeats may be the great- 
est victories. They may kill Wallace, but Scotland 
is his monument. Austrian spears may draw 
Winklereid's blood, but Switzerland is free. Le- 
onidas and his three hundred perish, but they are 
greater than the whole Persian army. Men be- 
come intoxicated with worldly success who have 
not yet discovered real greatness and the eternity 

3U 



LIFE'S DESTINY 

of character. Heaven's dictionary will be a vast 
improvement upon our words, and their proper 
meaning in the sentence of life. The world's suc- 
cess is a cheap and worthless article. One day the 
Sultan had a toothache and he sent for the court 
dentist, a highly paid and highly honored func- 
tionary. The dentist happened to be away from his 
palace on a hunting expedition. The Sultan could 
not wait, and dispatched messengers to find some 
other dentist. They found a practitioner in a poor 
quarter of the city whose business scarcely kept 
him in food, and they ordered him to accompany 
them to the imperial palace. He was first hastily 
taken to a clothing store, where his old clothes were 
exchanged for sumptuous garments at the Sultan's 
expense, and he was then taken to see his imperial 
patient. He extracted the aching tooth and gave 
the tortured monarch instant relief. The grateful 
Sultan at once made him court dentist, deposing 
the absent official. Thus in two hours the dentist 
was raised from penury to affluence, and made a 
Pasha, with a palace and a princely income. The 
good fortune turned his head, and he became crazy. 
Promptly again the Sultan acted. The dentist was 
deposed; his title, his palace, and his income were 

312 



LIFE'S DESTINY 

taken away, and in one day he was as poor as be- 
fore. Joseph's brethren received seven dollars by 
the sale of a part of their own flesh and blood. They 
thought it was riches, but no man can sell his own 
blood in any manner who is not the loser. Joseph 
enters the pit to be buried alive; then becomes a 
slave; meets sorrow, and suffering, and misrepre- 
sentation, and false imprisonment, but faces them 
all like a hero. They were the stepping-stones to 
his throne. His own wicked relatives were at last 
compelled to bow in humble reverence beneath the 
sceptre of character. " The soul that sinneth it 
shall die." That is not a mere thread of arbitrary 
statement. It is under the law of necessity. That 
is the open and downward path to destruction and 
death. It is a simple move by which the very fibre, 
and sinew, and dignity is taken out of life. Weak- 
ness has only one course, and that a downward one. 
It rolls on in a mad rush and plunge. Sin has an 
irresistible velocity. This is the most emphatic line 
of history. It is not false use of language to 
frighten. Even the trifling things of life reveal 
themselves as tremendous in the end. An opening 
through which a pin is thrust with difficulty has 
given the reservoir over to be a destructive force of 

313 



LIFE'S DESTINY 

greatest power. The real wealth of any kind, even 
of character, may be thrown away in an instant. 
He is a wise man and lives an eloquent life who 
considers every moment and circumstance as 
freighted with most valuable treasure. The bear- 
ing of everything upon character and destiny is 
one of the sublimest and most inspiring thoughts 
of the human mind. There is character in environ- 
ment, and habit, and voice, and motion, and all 
things. Who is he? Tell me where he is and what 
he does; that is sufficient. The common and 
routine things of each day make character, and 
character makes destiny. Every man comes at last 
where he belongs; where the pathway of his life 
leads; he finds his right place. Judas was not an 
exception, only a striking example. The truth of 
the great principle is in every drop of human blood. 
It is ^better for every Judas not to have been born 
than to end his life with a sin. Not to exist is 
better than to sin. If the lie is on our lips, or the 
stolen good is in our hand it is better, at that in- 
stant, never to have been born. That startling state- 
ment finds its explanation in the sinner rather than 
the man. In the sudden shock of some revelation of 
human character we are made blind to the many 

314 



LIFE'S DESTINY 

minor offences which pave the way to this climax. 
It is possible to hide so much that it seems as if dis- 
closure never would be made, but the fatal hour 
strikes, and the character is revealed and destiny is 
sealed unless God interferes. Self-deception is self- 
destruction. He who has lost enough sensitive- 
ness to sin so as to fail to see his real nature is not 
exempt from the inevitable. Manufactured blind- 
ness is not material for excuse. Violation of right- 
eous law is never accomplished with impunity. 

When the Santa Fe Railroad contractors reached 
Williams, Ariz., they attempted to tunnel 
through the mountain. A fire broke out in the 
workings which was not extinguished until large 
quantities of water had been thrown upon it. 
Scarcely had new woodwork been put in, when the 
fire broke out again, and this time it could not be 
put out. It appeared that the geological formation 
of the mountain is chiefly limestone in a high degree 
of purity. The water used in extinguishing the 
first fire had set the lime to slacking. The lime, 
as it slacked, dissolved into gas, liquid, and ashes, 
which, falling out of place, released the adjoining 
strata and exposed a fresh surface to the chemical 
action of the air and vapor. How far the strata 

315 



LIFE'S DESTINY 

extends is not known, but it looks as if the whole 
inside of the mountain would be eaten away. There 
are men sometimes to be met with in society who 
resemble this mountain. One sin in their nature 
leads to another, until their whole being seems to 
be given up to the curse. 

Great occasions do not make heroes or cowards. 
The crisis simply unveils the man. The critical mo- 
ment is only the revealer. of what we have silently 
and imperceptibly become. It is better and easier 
to take care of the harvest field at the sowing end. 
There is greater wisdom and keener foresight in 
planting pure seed than in the unsuccessful attempt 
to clean out the tares in the mill. The " by and 
by " of action is ruinous to character. Liberty at 
first is shackles afterward. The mouth of the river 
is not the place to change its course or its charac- 
ter. During the long journey, the impurities and 
sand have sifted in and the stream of habit have 
mingled their waters and increased the size and 
muddinessof every Mississippi. At the source is the 
opportunity for change and the making of purity. 
Right or wrong in life always comes to its appro- 
priate reward or punishment. Delay is not escape, 
and should not be deceptive. The drop of water 

316 



LIFE'S DESTINY 

and the grain of sand which fell upon the mountain 
twenty years ago are the makers of the avalanche 
to-day. The single acts of sin may be dropping 
into the heart for twenty years and their effect un- 
discovered upon the surface. Defiant, boastful man 
says, " Behold me; for twenty years I have been 
living in this way, and I am perfectly healthy and 
happy." It is the wisdom of the fool to say you 
should not do this or you should not do that. Here 
is the emphatic argument which overthrows all that 
religious warning: " Suddenly the tree crashes be- 
fore the storm, but the single drop of water found 
its way over the joining of limb and trunk to the 
very heart, and the years produce weakness, and 
decay, and resultant ruin. It is the inevitable. Fu- 
ture punishment is not arbitrary, but the natural 
and inevitable result of evil desire and evil life. A 
man who lives in wickedness has the beginning of 
hell in him now. Milton says, " Which way I fly 
am hell; myself am hell." The place is already in 
the heart. No man can get away from himself. 
Every mortal being will come where he desires to 
come — not surface desire, but the depest move- 
ments of his soul. He lives, and thinks, and plans, 
and acts in sin. The future is simply the effect of 

317 



LIFE'S DESTINY 

that cause. His present character demands that 
kind of a future. It is character which comes to 
its own place. No love for God here — why live 
with God there? Life has no ingredient except 
what you have placed there. 

" We are building every day 
In a good or evil way, 
And the structure, as it grows, 
Will our inmost self disclose. 
All are architects of fate, 
Working in these walls of time, 
Some with massive deeds and great, 
Some with ornaments of rhyme. 
For the structure that we raise 
Time is with materials filled, 
Our to-days and yesterdays are the blocks 
With which we build." 

No one can estimate the bearing of the slightest 
event on the final issue. Diamonds are made out 
of carbon, and rubies out of coal. Commonest 
things fill up the pattern in the mosaic of life. This 
is not only an outward and divine judgment, but 
the deep, and cutting, and abiding self-condemna- 
tion. It is not only so much punishment for so 
much sin, so many strokes for so many offences, 
so much penalty for so much guilt, but it is the 

318 



LIFE'S DESTINY 

holy rebuke of conscience against the whole life. 
The soul's implacable wrath against the offender. 
The laws of society did not hang Judas. Even God 
would have forgiven his criminality, black and deep- 
dyed as it was. But the foul betrayer could not par- 
don himself. The rope about his neck was the 
pressure of destiny. He twisted his own rope and 
mixed his own bitterness. The ingredients of his 
sorrow and ruin were the simple elements of his 
life. He came by a direct pathway, but it was his 
own choosing, and he was himself and not another. 
In the Kensington Gardens, in London, at the 
beginning of their enterprise, they sent over to 
China, to Oceanica, to India, to Arabia, to Pales- 
tine, to Egypt, and parts of Africa, and gathered 
specimens of all the beautiful birds. It was a great 
collection. They were placed in individual cages 
and those cages packed into a huge crate that 
covered a third of the deck of the small vessel on 
which they were brought from Alexandria. But 
when they were taking that immense crate off the 
ship, by some accident the great iron hook which 
lifted it from the deck to the wharf ripped off the 
top of the crate. It crashed down on the taffrail, on 
some of the iron projections, struck on the side of 

319 



LIFE'S DESTINY 

the ship, and then broke on the wharf. It was shat- 
tered into thousands of pieces. The cages were 
broken apart. Birds of blue and birds of yellow, 
birds of red and birds of green, birds from Oceanica, 
birds from China, birds from India, birds from Af- 
rica, birds from Egypt and from Palestine, were all 
set free on the shore of England. They found but 
one of those birds, a pelican, and that one is still 
shown in the Zoological Gardens in London. The 
pelican had done its best to get back to the upper 
Nile, but he could not swim or fly so far. But the 
other birds evidently went back home. They were 
released from their prison, and each went to his 
own place. Now, while they were in prison, they 
were not going where they wished to go. They de- 
sired to be free. They did not wish to be exhibited 
in the London Zoological Gardens. That was not 
in their nature. But they were placed there by 
circumstances beyond their control, and when 
providence did release them each went to his own 
mate, to his own nest, to his own country ^ to his 
own tree, to the shade of his own natural home, 
to his o\yn place. 

No cage can destroy the soul's desire. Death is 

3*0 



LIFE'S DESTINY 

the moment of release, and each man finds his own 
place. 

But while character is the maker of destiny, the 
blessed thought was born in the heart of God to 
have Christ the maker of character. Byron had a 
dream about the sun being blotted out of the heav- 
ens and the shocking results which followed, but 
it was not all a dream. George Stephenson, who 
invented the first locomotive, was once standing on 
a terrace when he saw the smoke and steam of an 
engine at a distance. Turning to a friend, he said, 
" Do you know what drives that engine? ' : "Well, 
I suppose some Newcastle driver." " But what 
makes the engine go? " The friend confessed him- 
self unable to answer. " Well, then, I will tell you; 
it is the sun that drives that engine." The light 
and heat of the sun had been stored away in the 
coal mines during the passing centuries, and now 
this heat was released from its prison in the fires 
of the engine. The heat produced the steam, the 
steam moves the engine, therefore it is the sunbeam 
which pushes the train. We warm ourselves at the 
fireside because the sun was warm. That same 
sun provides water, and the iron, and even the vital 
processes of our own bodies. The sun draws the 

321 



LIFE'S DESTINY 

gardens and harvests out of the earth. It brings 
light and life everywhere. 

That is the relation of the Son of God to human 
life. He is the author and finisher of character. He 
is everything to any man. To be a man is a grand 
thing. " Before I go any further/' says Frank Os- 
baldistone in " Rob Roy/' " I must know who you 
are." " I am a man/' is the answer, " and my pur- 
pose is friendly." " A man? " he replied; " that is 
a brief description." " It will serve," answered Rob 
Roy, " for one who has no other to give. He that 
is without friends, without coin, without country, 
is still, at least, a man." But a better statement was 
made by a young man recently converted from 
darkest heathenism. He said to the man who told 
him the sweet story of a Saviour, " When you go 
home write it down in your book that I am Jesus 
Christ's man." That is the sublimest position in 
the world. To be " Christ's man " is eternal vic- 
tory. Rider Haggard, in one of his fascinating 
books has an exciting chapter in which the weary 
travellers who have braved starvation and countless 
dangers, at last reach the renowned cave in which 
is hidden an innumerable collection of diamonds, 

every one of which is worth a fortune. They are 

322 



LIFE'S DESTINY 

within an inch of becoming millionaires. Their mis- 
sion is all but accomplished, when the door, which 
can only be opened on the outside by a secret 
spring, quickly closes and they are caught like mice 
in a trap. Surrounded by countless diamonds of 
rarest value they are, nevertheless, buried in a hope- 
less tomb. That is real life rather than fiction. It 
is sternest truth. There are no riches for an im- 
prisoned soul, but Christ comes with liberty and 
life everlasting. Christ does not come to a man as 
some external help, like a cane, or a crutch, or a 
guide, but He comes as breath and blood. The 
stronger and nobler we are, the more we need Him. 
To believe in Christ is to be like Him. To live as 
He lived is to share His eternity. He gives inspira- 
tion for life, comfort for sorrow, strength for labor, 
redemption in death. Christ draws the bow of His 
love across the heart-strings and makes the world's 
sweetest music in harmony with every note in the 
sweet melodies of heaven. The Son of God has the 
only real reward in His pierced hand. 

In Paris there was a young doctor who had ex- 
hibited wonderful skill in surgical operations and 
who had pursued an original line of investigation, 
which had interested many of the professors, and 

323 



LIFE'S DESTINY 

which had thrown new light on the branch of medi- 
cal science that he had made his specialty. He had 
studied, and investigated, and experimented, toil- 
ing for " La Gloire," as only a Frenchman can. He 
had pursued the bubble, Reputation: he had worked 
late and early; and at last Fame, he had it! The 
papers in the boulevards were full of the fame of 
the young doctor, and it was decided that he should 
get, what is the aim and ambition of every French- 
man, the red ribbon of the Legion of Honor. He 
was on his death-bed, and far gone in consumption, 
gaunt and ghastly, with his eyes in a flame, yet with 
his mind searching and investigating to the last, 
and thinking, " Surely this will bring me undying 
fame," when there came to him a messenger with 
the red ribbon of the Legion of Honor. When 
the eyes of the young man rested upon it, he said, 
" Just what I have been toiling for, undying honor." 
He took it up, and feeling the hand of death upon 
him, he raised himself in the bed, and exclaimed, 
" I will not die! I will not die! " and he fell back 
and died, with the decoration in his hand. 

In the gorgeous ritual that inaugurates the 
coronation and enthronement of the popes, there 
is a remarkable stage. When the wall that had 

324 



LIFE'S DESTINY 

closed the entrance, where the college of cardinals 
had been electing the Pope, has been broken open, 
and the voice of the clerk of the Holy College has 
been heard proclaiming the name of him who is 
to be Pope, a procession is formed to St. Peter's: 
and, as they pass with all the splendor of ecclesias- 
tical display upon them, up the echoing aisle of 
that wonderful building to where the throne is, on 
the other side of the high altar, there is a sudden 
pause; and amid the silence, before the new Pope, 
a priest suddenly appears, within his hand a reed, 
and on the top of the reed, a loose bundle of flax. 
The lighted taper in his other hand is applied to 
the straggling ends of the flax; there is a sudden 
flare, and in a moment the ashes have fallen at the 
feet of the supreme pontiff; and you hear a sonor- 
ous voice say, " Pater Sancte, sic transit gloria 
mundi." (Holy Father, thus passeth the glory 
of the world.) Another bundle of flax is placed 
on the reed; the white ashes sprinkle the place; 
and again the voice says, " Pater Sancte, sic transit 
gloria mundi." For a third time the impressive 
ceremony takes place, and the voice proclaims just 
the text, " So passeth away the glory of this world." 
The burning flax is a poor symbol of the passing 

325 



LIFE'S DESTINY 

glory of this world. Eternity is the only reality. 
Christ alone has the power to change destiny by 
changing character. The gift of His character to 
an immortal soul is the gift of His glorious destiny. 
Let us give the most triumphant shout of mortal 
lips, " Thanks be unto God who giveth us the vic- 
tory through our Lord Jesus Christ." 

326 



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ful." — Boston Traveller. 

" It is such sermons as these that are worth publishing and 
have a permanent value."— Presbyterian Journal. 

THE HEART OF THE GOSPEL. Twelve Sermons, 
delivered at the Metropolitan Tabernacle, London, 
England. By Arthur T. Pierson. 16mo, cloth, 
gilt top, $1.25. 

" They stand as examples of Dr. Pierson's conspicuous abil- 
ity as an extempore speaker. The sermons ring out the good 
old Gospel in sweet clarion tones. There is no uncertainty 
as to their doctrinal orthodoxy, nor is there any lack of adap- 
tation in them for winning souls." — JSf. Y. Observer. 

MILK AND MEAT. Twenty-four Sermons. By 
Rev. A. C. Dixon, D.D., Pastor of the Hanson Place 
Baptist Church, Brooklyn, N. Y. 12mo, cloth, 
$1.25. 

These discourses which have been delivered to very large and 
enthusiastic audiences, seek in book form a still wider hear- 
ing. The author's nervous, energetic, and picturesque style 
of exposition gives his spoken and written words an unflagging 
interest, which holds the auditor and reader to the end. Apt- 
ness of illustration and pointed and forceful presentation 
characterize the book: while avoiding the grotesque, it is 
thoroughly popular, entertaining, and natural. 

Benty postpaid, on receipt of the price, by 

THE BAKER & TAYLOR CO., Publishers, 

5 and 7 East Sixteenth St., New YoeK, 



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